


Crime pays until it doesn't

by ValkyrieRowan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst and Feels, Arson, Dual POV, F/M, Gang Violence, Gun Violence, M/M, Minor Violence, Mobster Peter, No Werewolves, Spies, alternative universe, criminals, manipulation & lies, secret agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 57,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5231039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkyrieRowan/pseuds/ValkyrieRowan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a secret agent, specialising in undercover work and tasked with infiltrating the mob. Derek is a part of this mob and things get ... complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles didn’t mean to pull out the gun so early on but when you notice the cashier about to reveal a shotgun from under the register what else are you supposed to do?

Things unsurprisingly escalated from there with a whole lot of shouting, most of it unintelligible and entirely unhelpful. That was until the man stopped shouting for a second and Stiles knew to get the fuck out of the way, diving to the side with barely a second before the gun went off.

The display behind where he had been standing exploded and he landed hard on the ground, ears ringing. He had to ignore it though and pushed himself off the ground and ducked into another aisle just in time before the cashier got off another shot.

Adrenaline was making Stiles jittery as he ran across the store keeping low, heart pounding in his ears. This was not the way things were supposed to go but he couldn’t lose his cool now. He ducked around the end of an aisle and shot precisely at the glass case in front of the cashier, shattering it and lodging the bullet in the cheap plaster wall.

Now it was the other man’s turn to hide as Stiles made his way forward and that was the moment he heard the bells jingle. It was comical really, or it could have been if that hadn’t been the bells on the door of the convenience store and if they hadn’t been followed by two people who did not look happy. They also had guns.

There was a tall man who still had some of the boyish look to his face which was framed by brown curls. He was with a petite blonde woman who looked somewhere between a supermodel and a tigress, sporting a wicked smile that Stiles did not like.

He was stunned for a moment but the bells jingled again as the door swung shut and he snapped out of it, bolting for the back exit and zig zagging to avoid the bullets that inevitably started flying a second later.

He swore viciously, as one splintered the door frame when he paused to fiddle with the handle. It only took him a second to get it open but it was enough for his muscles to scream at him to get back into action.

Once he had the door open he ducked through, slamming it shut behind him and taking in the grey alley he was in now. There was a dumpster that Stiles ran past and the acrid smell of smoke in the cramped alley. He made it about 10 feet before he noticed someone standing between him and the exit onto the main street.

He was a tall black man who had biceps the size of Stiles’ head and was looking right at him.

Stiles set his jaw and continued running forward, putting the momentum he’d gained into a kick aimed at the other man’s torso. He had seen it coming and the taller man was able to twist but still took a hard hit to the stomach.

It didn’t seem to slow him down though which has Stiles worried as he tried to keep up, the two of them locked in a vicious fight with Stiles barely dodging punches that could be crippling. He landed dozens of hits of his own but the man he was fighting barely flinched.

Between blows Stiles heard the two others from the store come into the alley. These three must have been working together and that’s all he had time to register before the black man managed to pin his arms behind him.

Stiles had to grit his teeth to stop himself from crying out from the strain on his shoulders and could now see the others running towards them. He only had a few seconds before they got to him and made a last ditch effort to get out of the hold by twisting impossibly and kicking out behind him.

It worked for a second and he fell to the ground, his kick sending the taller man reeling back. Stiles was getting up to run, turning to the exit of the alley when he felt cool metal on his back.

“I’m afraid you’re trespassing friend,” he heard the female voice say, close enough to be the one holding the gun on him.

He froze, unable to turn to see her and a second later the man he had been fighting took up his place again in front of him, blocking the exit from the alley.

“Oh,” Stiles tried to laugh but it came out as a bit of a choked hiccup. “Sorry umm… I’ll just get out of your hair...”

He looked around at the three people who now had him cornered and they did not look impressed, the woman even rolled her eyes.

“You’re coming with us,” she said.

And that was the end of that. Stiles followed them to an old blue pick up parked on the curb and was told to sit in the back with the black man. They didn’t bother tying his hands or telling him to behave, they’d made it clear already that he was outmatched and even if they hadn’t, Stiles was exactly where he wanted to be.

It was Lydia who had helped him do the research, providing Agent Stilinski with all the profiles he needed and so he recognised these people as low level associates of his target. They were Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, and Isaac Lahey, poor kids from rough neighbourhoods who had turned to a life of a crime and currently worked for the Hale Syndicate.

Director Deaton, the enigmatic head of the agency Stiles worked for, had been concerned about the syndicate’s rising power in the city for sometime but there had been more pressing concerns. The focus had been on Agent Allison’s undercover mission with the city’s most prolific crime ring, headed by a man named Deucalion. Her recent intelligence gathering however had revealed something no one had expected.

The identity of The Alpha.

Or the location at the very least, and the team was surprised to find the assassin known as the Alpha wasn’t working alongside Deucalion, but within the Hale syndicate. Who they were was still a mystery but the assassinations accredited to them were escalating and had every law enforcement agency concerned. After that it wasn’t long before the Director accepted Agent Stilinski’s proposal.

According to Lydia, attempting to do business, illegal or otherwise in the Hale territory without their permission was, up until recently, lethal. However, young people had been disappearing from the streets and reappearing in Hale’s employ more and more in the last few months indicating a concerning rise in power. In Stiles’ opinion he just had to make the right impression and get recruited.

It wasn’t exactly the safest option but it was the fastest way in. Time was running out to stop the escalating murders and tensions between the two crime factions and Stiles was their best chance. He was their top field agent alongside Allison and if he told them that he could handle things, they listened.

Scott still hated the plan obviously. The softie probably would have refused to work for the agency at all if his best friend and fiance didn’t work there. Some days Stiles felt guilty about that but honestly having Scott around was such a comforting thing and it wasn’t like the guy was defenceless. They’d both had the same training and had been tied for top of their class after the star student had dropped out a few months in, family issues or something.

No one really knew where Allison had gotten her training, all they knew was that someone from on high had given her the coveted position of field agent and she had more than earned her place in her three years of service with their team.

They were a small but efficient agency and operated at the highest levels of discretion and most of them were happy simply to serve their own sense of justice, particularly Stiles who wanted to honor his father. John Stilinski had retired the previous year and had only served to strengthen the young man’s resolve as he pushed himself to more demanding missions, trying to fix the corruption that had taken his mother from him.

That was how he ended up in the back of a pick up with criminals, driving down the waterfront.  
There were a long line of abandoned warehouses and the one they stopped at seemed indistinguishable from the rest but Stiles committed every marker to memory, revising the route they had taken in his head.

He was led inside and confronted with the massive space, cleared of any old machinery there might have been to make room for a menagerie of different equipment. Racks of weapons covered the far side surrounded by tables, boxes and a half dozen people milling around who Isaac made his way over to. There was also a collection of weathered gym equipment, couches, a stereo, a television and what seemed to be a makeshift kitchen with a pantry and a fridge. Stiles almost wanted to laugh; the place was a very large bachelor pad with guns.

He also noticed a staircase behind the couches that led up to an observation platform about 6 feet wide that ran along the outside of the warehouse and also had a few small offices with blacked out windows and some that looked like they could be living spaces

He was distracted from any more examination of the place by a man coming out of one of the offices talking on his phone. He had flecks of grey in his dark hair and was handsome, was wearing a sharp navy suit and an even sharper expression that held an air of danger.

From the files Stiles recognised him as Peter Hale. Drug smuggler, money launderer, extortionist, murderer and who knows what else. All of it alleged of course and untraceable so Stiles had to try very hard in that moment not to do anything stupid. He’d been trained for this and had to stay calm no matter how much his skin crawled to be in the same room as this man who had been the cause of pain and suffering for so many, yet he descended the stairs as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Who’s the kid?” Hale asked when he reached the bottom of the stairs, his voice carefully measured as he turned to Stiles, looking him up and down with a calculated eye. The younger man wanted to vomit when Peter’s eyes lingered a moment too long but he held his ground, only showing practised signs of fear as would be appropriate for his cover.

The question was directed at Erica and Boyd who still stood behind Stiles, ready to handle him if he tried anything. Erica spoke up immediately, “Found him trying to shake down Jimmy’s place for some pocket change. Put up a fight when we dragged him out of there and he’s not half bad but we figured you’d wanna make the call.”

Stiles let himself slip into the role and spoke with a voice that shook only a little as if he was trying to hide fear. “So sorry about that sir, I.. I didn’t know. I’m just new in town see and I was just looking, I swear I won’t be any trouble-”

Peter held up his hand to stop him. Good, Stiles thought, he didn’t want to have to beg and seem useless even though incoherent babbling has never been a problem for him to maintain.

“Erica says you can hold your own, that’s quite the compliment young man. Shall we put it to the test?” Peter said, his voice sickly sweet like he was asking a child if they wanted ice cream.

If Stiles was honest though he was glad because this meant the intel on Peter looking for new recruits was good and they wouldn’t be killing him, not yet anyway. And so he continued, letting an expression of confusion pass over his face and was rewarded by a smile from Peter who took his arm and led him over to an empty space in the middle of the warehouse. Those acting lessons with Lydia were really paying off and Stiles reminded himself to gloat about it later.

Stiles stood where Peter directed him and noticed that the other people who had been working on the sidelines were gathering around now, leaving the central space clear. He took a few deep breaths and told himself to concentrate now, rolling his shoulders and planting his feet. What followed would have to be equal parts performance and display of skill, he had to be in complete control.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek had been resting in his room when he heard the voices outside. He was used to the general din of the warehouse but this was different, shouting and suspicious thuds. It was probably just another argument between Jackson and Erica but if things got out of hand he should be there. So, reluctantly, he got out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt over his loose track pants.

He walked out to see two figures in the centre of the room below locked in an intense fight and surrounded by a handful of others looking on. From his place on the higher platform he could see that one of the fighters was Erica, her blonde ponytail whipping out as she lunged at her opponent, a young man that Derek did not recognise. Strange, considering Peter was pretty picky when it came to bringing outsiders here unless he intended to kill them. 

Derek could see his uncle leaning against the back wall observing the fight with wry smile. It didn’t seem like there was anything to worry about that the others couldn’t handle.

He was ready to go back and see if he could find sleep when he noticed something triumphant in the young man’s stance despite Erica pressing him back with relentless punches. Derek barely had a moment to register this before the stranger crouched down faster than he thought possible and kicked out, sending the woman crashing to the ground. Another second and he had her pinned.

A stunned silence replaced the rowdy cheering and conversation of a moment ago. 

Derek stood completely still; this was Erica the kid had just beat, one of their most talented hand to hand fighters. He wasn’t sure how long they were all frozen in that moment but it was finally broken by a single person clapping.

It was Peter, ever the performer, and he called an end to the fight with that, stepping forward to congratulate the newcomer while Erica grumbled and stepped off to the side grabbing the beer Boyd offered. Derek guessed by this development that the man must have been a new recruit of some kind.

Normally new people put Derek on edge, he’s not exactly one to trust after what he’d been through but this one left him more interested than wary. He wanted to get closer and find out more and a thought occurred to him.

“You’re not gonna let him off that easy are you?” Derek called down to no one in particular before he could stop himself.

Everyone turned up in surprise at the sound of his voice.

After a pause Peter replied casually, “What shall we do then?”

“Let me take a crack at him.”

Peter replied with a soft laugh, “Sure, why not?”. He was probably curious to see why Derek was showing interest at all since he normally kept to himself.

Derek wasn’t sure why he wanted to do this either but it seemed like he couldn’t turn back now. He made his way down the stairs as the others backed away from the newcomer, leaving a sizable space for them to fight in. For the first time Derek allowed himself to really look at the young man.

He had short dark hair and was thin and a little gangly like a teenager who hadn’t quite grown into his body yet. He was only an inch shorter than Derek which was a surprise after how young he looked but there was a hard look in his eyes. And judging by the way he could fight, no matter how young he may be he knew enough to survive.

Something about his face was familiar but Derek brushed off the thought quickly. He was probably just another street kid Peter recruited to bolster ranks, especially with the tension growing between them and Deucalion's people. Still, he couldn’t help but look a second longer than was technically needed.

“What’s your name?” Derek asked, to distract himself more than anything.

“Stiles,” he replied warily. 

Derek stopped himself from making a comment on how ridiculous that name was, he’d heard weirder in his line of work. Instead he nodded and gruffly replied, “I’m Derek.”

The exchange was awkward to say the least and from the side Erica called out “Just kick his ass already Der.”

He couldn’t help but smile a little at that and there were a few laughs from their small crowd. A moment later Peter called for the start of the fight.

A blink of an eye and then Stiles darted forward swinging his fisted hand at Derek’s abdomen. He pulled back instinctively to avoid it but still felt the sting of a glancing blow and it snapped him into focus.

He used the momentum from the hit to step back and kicked out viciously, connecting with Stiles’ arm with a thud. The young man grunted in pain and was knocked back and Derek was greeted with cheers as he closed in. The noise distracted him for a second and he underestimated his opponent.

His pounding head a few second later made him regret losing focus. Stiles had recovered quickly and got in a solid uppercut to Derek’s jaw since he’d been so close and about to strike. He followed through with several jabs to the older man’s torso, some of which Derek was able to block but the stranger was fast. 

Derek had better stamina and was keeping up a solid defence but the attacks were brutal and he knew he was going to lose if he didn’t do something fast. They were closer now and for some reason Derek could feel his opponent's offensive waver. The look in Stiles’ eyes was hard to decipher but he knew it wasn’t fatigue that was making the younger man slow down.

Nevertheless Derek took the opportunity to go back on the offensive, finding the perfect opportunities between Stiles’ strikes to push back with punches of his own and putting him off balance. The younger man seemed almost surprised, like he was trying to say something without words and Derek was missing something.

He couldn’t focus enough to interpret it though as the others egged him on, seeing that he had the advantage again even though he didn’t feel as though he did. All he could do though was finish the fight and so he caught Stiles’ arm, pulling it and pivoting to send him to the ground.

The two of them grappled for a moment, and Derek was pulled to the ground as the fight turned more to wrestling. Stiles tried to use his free arm to hit out at Derek but the older man dodged easily, staying out of reach while pinning the other arm and keeping his knee on the man’s chest so he would stay down.

They were both panting and out of breath by this point and Stiles still hadn’t recovered from whatever had distracted him. This made it easy for Derek to get in another punch and stun Stiles long enough to grab his other wrist and hold it, stopping him from moving any further.

There was a strange pause then, Derek heard cheering and it made sense because the fight was over but his focus was on the feeling of the man he had just beat, pinned under him.  
Derek was straddling his torso, kneeling on the ground and held the man’s arms down on either side of his head. Their eyes were locked, bodies so close and Derek still couldn’t understand what the expression on the man’s face was. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and felt Stiles’ pulse too, beating even faster where his fingers held onto his wrist.

Suddenly Derek realised he hadn’t moved after the cheering had started and immediately let go, standing and backing away from Stiles. He was aware his movements were jerky but didn’t care, he just needed to get away.

There was something familiar about that face, that expression… it wasn’t fear like Derek had first thought. He’d gotten so used to seeing fear in the eyes of those he fought but no; this was something else, something like nostalgia or sadness.

He forced himself to look away from Stiles as the other man started to stand. Forced the image out of his head even though he felt the first threads of memories coming back to him. Whatever it was it wasn’t his problem. 

He’d spent a long time not thinking about his past and whatever this kid had to do with it he didn’t want to know; he had a new life now and a job to do. So he accepted congratulations from a few of the others around him, grabbed a beer from the cooler and went back upstairs to look over the mansion floor plans again and tend to his weapons. He needed to be ready.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some angsting Stiles, spy things and banter :)

Stiles had lost control, he knew he had as he saw Boyd nod at him and even Jackson, who he knew of from the files, seemed to approve. Stiles was distantly aware of Peter smiling at him and telling Isaac to help him get settled in. It seemed having won the first fight was enough for him to be allowed in and he’d achieved the first step of infiltration.

He let Isaac lead him to the tables of guns at the back, but all he could think was Derek is alive. It didn’t seem like it could be true after all this time. What could he be doing here? Was he running from something? Why hadn’t he come Stiles for help? How was he still alive? Stiles had dismissed the possibility so many times before the middle of the fight when he had accepted that it might be true.

Derek was unmistakable from the hundreds of times Stiles had watched the man sparring. In fact the last time he had seen Derek they had been on the training field practicing fighting forms. The star student, Derek Hale had always seemed untouchable but that day his face had crumbled when a cadet approached him with the news.

No one knew the full extent of what had happened but after that Derek had disappeared completely. No one could get in touch with him and Stiles and Scott had risen to the top of the class.

This couldn’t be happening. This could not be the same man who had smiled at a young, bright eyed Stiles and helped him perfect his roundhouse kick or laughed at Scott’s awful jokes and been such a great influence on their squad. It felt like a million years ago and yet Stiles had seen the same man just moments ago with his own eyes. He’d lost control because of it.

He knew he should have been focusing on his mission, taking in everything Isaac was telling him about the weapons on the table that they were now standing in front of. He was supposed to be trying to build connections with the others, not replaying the fight with Derek in his head over and over again.

Isaac commented on Stiles wringing his hands and he tried to brush it off with a joke about being nervous around guns. They’d taken his before he got into the truck and he had to admit he felt a little naked without it even though he could handle himself. He couldn’t afford to get careless now though; unexpected variables are a big part of any undercover job and, as he rationalised these things in his head, he could almost forget the flash of recognition in Derek’s eyes.

It had just been a second but it was enough to - No. Stiles had to focus on what Isaac was saying about gun shipments from someone who went by the name Silver while he kept an eye on Peter dispatching small groups and the general routine of the headquarters. He had to have this place mapped out by nightfall and thinking about dead men wasn’t going to help him.

So he started taking mental notes of what Isaac was saying. The man was actually pretty friendly and Stiles couldn’t really tell how someone like him ended up here. He’d have to ask later because the man’s soft eyes seemed out of place even though, as Stiles was thinking this, he saw him assemble and reassemble several guns to clean them, rattling off statistics. Isaac explained to him that as the new guy, Stiles’ job for now would be to take inventory of the various rifles, handguns and automatic weapons they had stored in the corner of the warehouse, as well as keep track of who had borrowed what. It was mostly clerical work and Stiles couldn’t help but think of it as a library for guns and he told Isaac so.

The other man laughed a little as he carefully put away the nasty looking rifle he was holding like it was a prized tea set. Stiles raised an eyebrow but said nothing and spent the rest of the day watching and committing everything he saw within the warehouse to memory, asking around under the guise of the oblivious new kid when in doubt.

No one was willing to talk about Derek, mostly because they didn’t seem to know much beyond his skills which they were in awe of and it sounded like no one had seen him around much recently. Information of Peter was even harder to find and Stiles would probably have to break into his office at some point since he was their main suspect or at least a good lead on The Alpha. Besides those dead ends though, Stiles was starting to settle in. The others were warming to him even though Erica was holding a grudge and Jackson made no secret of how much he hated him. Thought Jackson seemed like he didn’t like anyone anyway, and Boyd had mentioned that Erica hadn’t been beaten by anyone since she’d been there so really he should be thankful he’s still alive.

In the evening, Isaac told him about the apartment building most of the others stayed in and that the two of them would be in neighbouring rooms. It wasn’t presented as a request and Isaac looked apologetic about the whole thing, clearly under orders.

Stiles just smiled and said he was ready to move in whenever. He’d noticed some of the others keeping an eye on him and had expected to be watched at least for the first few days. Isaac apparently thought all that surveillance was unnecessary, bless him. He reminded Stiles a lot of Scott actually.

The guy even helped Stiles go down to the store and pick up some extra clothes because his cover, Stiles Robinson, was a runaway without a dollar to his name; hence the attempted robbery. After that they set up everything in his new apartment which wasn’t much more than a bed and a bathroom, like the building had been a hotel at some point. Either way, once Isaac left and the door closed, Stiles let himself relax, rolling his shoulders and going to stand by the window.

The air in this part of the city was always full of smog but tonight everything was too dark to tell anyway, save a few blurred street lamps and the distant lights of the city centre. Stiles could hear a car alarm somewhere and closed his eyes for a second; it had been a long day. He was dead tired and more than a little bruised from his fights but he had to record everything he’d collected while it was fresh.

The apartment surprisingly had a balcony and Stiles stepped out onto it into the summer breeze and between that and the car alarm he figured he wasn’t going to be overheard. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the burner phone he’d pick pocketed at the store while Isaac was turned away for a second. Typing in the number he leaned back against the wall and waited.

“AGENT STILINSKI WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!” He heard the screech on the other end of the phone which he’d already been holding away from his ear.

“Nice to talk to you too Scotty, been a bit busy sorry. Put Lyds on the phone would you?”

“Put Lyds on the phone he says! Been busy he says! WELL WHAT ABOUT ME HUH?”

There was some shuffling and general grumbling on the other side of the phone. Stiles waited patiently and a moment later he heard the much calmer voice of Lydia Martin.

“He’s going to moan about this for weeks now.” She said, sounding exasperated.

“I know, I know. Just… things got a little crazy you know?” He said, pleading a little.

“You were supposed to check in hours ago. Your professionalism is slipping Stilinski, and you’re lucky we have that tracer on you otherwise McCall was assembling a SWAT team.”

Stiles started to laugh at that but Lydia cut him off, demanding they actually get some work done today.

If Stiles was being honest, talking to Scott while on missions distracted him. Lydia would mostly focus on the job but Scott would remind him how dangerous everything really was, rattling off all the ways he could get killed like it was a grocery list.

Allison would joke that she was going to have to marry Stiles too because the two men had always been such a big part of each other's lives. He was surprised that bond had survived in their new lives given everything but figured he shouldn't question it.

After some more complaining on the phone about his general treatment, Stiles relayed all the information that he had gathered that day. Lydia was disappointed that there was pitifully little on the kingpin himself, Peter Hale, but Stiles had met him and made an impression which was enough for now. He was also well placed to find out about their guns trade which was a good start but there had been no sign at all of The Alpha. None of the others had even mentioned the name or the recent assassinations and it was strange because a lot of the targets seemed to have been people in the same line of work or allegedly corrupt officials.

Initially, the Agency had thought it was some sort of vigilante but the MO had always seemed professional and Allison’s intel had confirmed the involvement of the Hale syndicate. It seemed like whatever was happening wasn’t something they advertised or at least something no one was ready to talk about.

“Anything else to report Stilinski?” Lydia asked at around 2am when they’d finally got through everything. First days were always rough.

“Actually… Could you do me a favour?” Stiles asked tentatively, thinking again of the recognition he’d seen in those green eyes. It had to be him. “Could you look up a Derek Hale? Possible relation to Peter.”

“Sure. You read the same file I did though right? Peter’s family history is mostly unknown beyond the tragedy with the house fire.”

“I know it’s just-” his voice stalled because what could he say? I knew him. He’s supposed to be dead. I need to know what happened.

He suddenly felt wrong for asking at all, he should be ignoring Derek because it probably wasn't even him. It was only a second of hopelessness and doubt before Lydia piped up again.

“So who’s this guy Derek?” She asked in the same businesslike tone and Stiles could hear her typing in the background. “Is he a possible lead?”

“No. I mean I don’t think so?” Stiles managed to stammer out, thoughts stuck on what Lydia might find or if she’ll find anything at all. He wasn’t sure what would be worse at this point.

“So why am I looking him up then?”

“He’s just someone I saw today,’ He said trying to end the conversation, “could be something, could be nothing.”

“Alright Stilinski,” she said, just fast enough for him to get that she knew he was hiding something but was willing to let him get away with it for now.

“Thanks Lydia,” he said sincerely and could feel her softening.

He gave her a physical description and mentioned that Derek may have been in the armed forces and undergone special training which caught her attention. But still she said nothing, mostly used to Stiles and his odd requests of information by now. As Head of Communications and Intelligence and Allison’s best friend, Stiles was willing to bet she’d done much more suspicious research than this.

She said she’d get back to him within a few days and they finally called it a night. Stiles mourned the loss of sleep that was inevitable when leading a double life and finally let himself crash on the bed. He’d have plenty more work to do in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Got a longer chapter for you this time folks :) And Sterek actually talk in this one!
> 
> Also things may get a little intense…  
> (see end notes for trigger warnings and details - will spoil minor things)

 

Derek sat on the edge of the bed in his room, his thoughts clouded. Everything around him was pitch black. It had to be 2 or 3 am and he had his head buried in his hands, fingers rubbing at his eyes.

He’d hoped he would be tired enough to just crash after spending hours in the makeshift gym they had downstairs. It hadn’t worked before though so why should it start now? The nightmares had been happening for years and Derek counted himself lucky with this one as he calmed his laboured breathing and decided to take a shower to get rid of the smell of sweat.

Tonight hadn’t been that bad in Derek’s opinion, at least he hadn’t seen the faces again. He’d just felt the flames, the horror and the guilt fresh in his mind like he’d been there just a second ago. In his mind it had been real but this time he had managed not to cry, and curling his hands into fists he pushed off from the bed to make for the bathroom.

His nails dug into his palms, grounding him as he reached for something else to think of. He tried to start going through a to do list for the next day as he slammed the door shut behind him and started to undress. Stepping into the shower and turning on the hot water he went through the equipment that he would need to collect for the job in a few days and the shipments he had to survey and approve. Within that Derek found a brief moment of peace as the near scalding water washed over his body and he was surrounded by steam. His mind went blissfully blank as he let his eyes close and bowed his head, letting out a sigh of pleasure.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in there but when he finally came out he felt almost drunk; hazy and sated. He towelled himself off and threw on some boxers, feeling any remaining tension dissipate as he sunk into the sheets again. He only thought of his family a few times before he managed to fall asleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A luxurious 4 hours later he woke up to get ready for breakfast with Peter. It was a tradition they had put in place after Derek admitted he missed having those mornings with his dad cooking and everyone else milling around busy but all together. Peter didn’t cook but Isaac would come in early and whip up some pancakes and coffee to leave for them.

When Derek walked into their makeshift dining room next to Peter’s office the older man was already sitting in his usual seat at the head of the table, sipping his black coffee and talking to someone on the phone. Derek took his place and nodded good morning as he served himself. He liked the quiet and didn’t really mind that they didn’t talk much during breakfast beyond business and nuggets of wisdom that his uncle would share. For example it was Peter who said he never let the past hold him back from his ambitions which was why Derek thought about the future whenever he wanted to avoid the past.

After the fire Peter had always taken care of him, been there more than ever before. He’d helped Derek forget even though he wasn’t sure he would be able to move on. Peter had given him purpose at a time when he didn’t think he’d be able to keep going at all.

He’d always known his uncle’s work wasn’t technically speaking legal and his mother had tried to keep him away but he could still remember  Peter coming around every once in awhile to spoil his nephew or bully him. Derek never knew which to expect but he couldn’t imagine his life now without the man.

After he lost everything and chose to leave the marines, Derek was ready to do almost anything to protect the little family he had left and so let himself slip into his new life in Peter’s employ.

At the beginning he hadn’t asked Derek to kill anyone. He was just another thug and even made a few friends that way. Eventually though he had to face the reality that there would be people who wanted to take what Peter was building and Derek had the training of a killer already. Peter almost always had  good reasons for making Derek do those things but even when he didn’t it wasn’t like Derek was going to refuse.

It didn’t matter that his uncle wasn’t perfect, it mattered that he was around.

“Silver should arrive in a few days by the way,” Peter said, his face half hidden behind his phone. He was texting now, probably with Kate, or Silver as Peter kept reminding Derek to call her. He didn’t know why his uncle insisted on using her code name but he supposed it fit for their arms dealer.

Derek just nodded, Kate’s shipment of goods had been delivered to the warehouse yesterday which usually meant the woman herself wasn’t far behind. She’d be there a week or more settling her new deal with Peter, spending time with the man as if they were friends rather than tentative allies and would occasionally leer at Derek.

He tended to avoid her if he could and never looked forward to his duty of checking that her shipments were in order. He didn’t exactly have the patience for a job like that and had repeatedly asked if Isaac could take over since it was his area of expertise. Peter wouldn’t hear of it though, said Derek should take more responsibility as if he hadn’t already proven himself. Then Derek remembered that Isaac actually had an extra pair of hands now, he’d seen him lead the new recruit to the guns tables after the fight.

So Derek asked, “What did you think of the new guy?”

Peter looked up from his phone, “An interesting recruit to be sure. What about him?”

“Well he seems quite capable doesn’t he?”

“I suppose,” he said as he put the phone down and gave Derek a curious look. “Can definitely throw a punch and then some. Is that what you mean though?”

“Well that and he seemed smart. I mean he can probably handle-”

Peter started laughing and cut him off, “Are you interested in this boy Derek?” His expression was predatory and calculated, “Because if so I would advise against mixing business with pleasure. Though I can certainly see the allure.”

Derek blanched and rushed to stutter out a response. “It’s not like that! I just meant he and Isaac can handle doing inventory without me.”

He was almost certain he was blushing and wanted to punch something right about then. It had been a long time since he had been accused of showing interest in someone that way; he never really wanted anyone like that after the fire. Peter seemed very amused and let the pause after Derek’s defensive outburst stretch out for a few more agonising seconds before he responded.

“Fine, I’d still like you to supervise though, make sure the kid gets it right.”

“I can live with that.” He replied, managing to keep his voice steady this time.

Peter made a sound of assent and still seemed unconvinced of Derek’s motives as he sipped his coffee, quietly judging him.

Derek ignored it and after a while, Peter left for a meeting that he had in town. The man would often disappear for hours on business that even Derek didn’t know about and if he was honest with himself he didn’t want to know. He loved his uncle and having a place but he mostly kept to himself so he finished his breakfast quickly and left for his morning workout. When he was lifting weights or running he could just focus on his breathing and the strain of his muscles and let everything else slip away.

He caught the new guy looking over at him a few times and that was interesting. It wasn’t as if Derek wasn’t used to people staring; Erica had watched him all the time when she had first been recruited before Boyd had showed up. Derek knew the effort he put into his body showed and never really payed attention when people noticed.

This time though Derek was looking back and when Stiles turned away embarrassed, he couldn’t help but smile a little. He had no idea what he was doing or why he was acting like a highschooler all of a sudden. Part of him wanted to blame Peter but he just shook his head a bit to clear it and went to go clean up.

After he’d showered and changed he talked to Isaac about getting the shipment sorted. He led Derek over to the back where over a dozen wooden crates were stacked and started listing the different types they’d received, going into great detail about a few untraceable handguns. When Isaac started ranting about guns it was best to just let him finish. Interrupting was akin to kicking a puppy and though most of the people Derek knew did awful things, around here, everyone respected Isaac’s innocence, even Jackson.

He was around about halfway into his explanation of why the calibre was perfectly paired with the particular alloy of the gun when Stiles showed up and waved hello before moving to the side.  He seemed comfortable around Isaac but looked a little uncertainly at Derek before turning to set the gun he was holding on a shelf.

For the next half hour the three of them went through the various crates, counting out the number in each and comparing it to the manifest that Derek had. He and Isaac had done this several times over the last few years when Silver updated their weapons stash and quickly fell into a rhythm. Isaac knew more of how to handle everything and since Peter had finally allowed it, Derek stepped back and took more of a supervisor role. Stiles seemed to already be used to Isaac and as the two worked and made small talk, Derek let himself finally look at the new recruit more closely.

His young face aside, he seemed quite competent and was likely only a few years younger than Derek himself. Stiles’ gangly limbs made him a little clumsy and he would apologise several times, though that seemed out of place with the person Derek had fought just the other day. The one whose attacks had been precise and calculated until he’d lost focus. Derek put that moment out of his mind as he felt that recognition again and allowed himself instead to notice that the man was not unattractive. He had simple brown-gold eyes with impossibly long eyelashes and smooth pale skin, interrupted only by several black moles that spread across his cheeks, down his neck and collarbone to disappear into his shirt. Derek wondered if he had them everywhere.

The younger man, though slimmer than Derek, was reasonably muscled. No doubt from having to fight for his life on the streets and Derek often wondered what that had been like for many of the other recruits growing up. He had mentored a lot of the ones Stiles’ age, helped teach them how to defend themselves better rather than just go berserk and he became protective over them. The one thing still haunted him was when Isaac had been recruited. The young man hadn’t needed much training when it came to basic defence and dealing with pain. He was a runaway and had shown up with half his body covered in purple bruises and said his father had already taught him everything there was to know about that. His father had also taught him about guns though and Isaac loved them, spending all of his time absorbed in his work.

They all coped in their own ways and Stiles seemed to do it with a bubbly attitude, making small talk as he worked, even though he clearly was smarter than the gossipy front that he put up. He rarely spoke to Derek and it bothered him a little but he understood. What exactly do you say to someone who you fought the first time you met and pinned you to the ground in front of your new gang?

Yeah they hadn’t had the best introduction and Derek was hoping to fix that. They were going to be working together and even though he mostly stuck to himself, the gang was his family now and he could see Stiles was getting along with the others.

It was getting dark outside and they were nearing the end of the third crate when Derek remembered he needed Isaac to get him his supplies for the job in a few days. After lecturing Derek that the correct term for a silencer is in fact suppressor, Isaac disappeared into the maze of aisles to get the items.

It took Derek a minute to realise that this left him and Stiles alone. It would have probably been a good time to try to break the ice and he spent the next agonising 60 seconds watching Stiles start to unpack the next crate as he tried to figure out what to say.

In the end Stiles beat him to it and said ‘You’re staring,’ without looking up.

For the second time that day Derek felt himself blushing and wanting to punch something. His eyes immediately dropped to the floor and he said a little meanly, “I’m not the only one who stares.”

Stiles dropped the gun he was holding and Derek felt a little guilty then but not enough to take it back. He hadn’t imagined Stiles watching him while at the gym and wasn’t sure why seeing the other man’s reaction to Derek pointing this out was so amusing to him.

“You kicked my ass the other day! I just wanted to see how you y’no..” Stiles was trying to explain a little frantically, turning from the crate back to Derek.

Both of them still weren’t looking at each other though and Derek had a horrified moment thinking what if Peter came back and saw this. He’d never let him hear the end of it.

“Don’t worry about it” Derek said, trying to diffuse the tension a little bit. This was not where he wanted things to go. “I train most days and practise with Erica when I can so that keeps me in shape I guess. You’re pretty good in the ring too though.”

Stiles perked up at that and finally looked up, “Thanks. Didn’t do me any good the other day but I didn’t expect much going up against a big guy like you.”

“Nah, you had a pretty good shot,” Derek said, smiling now at the younger man as he felt the same pull of recognition that he’d felt the other day. It felt good.

He only had a second of that though before Isaac came back, holding a small box and loudly proclaiming, “I found the damn suppressors Derek! Near impossibly to find one for your outdated guns. I’ll never understand why you don’t upgrade I mean-”

On the one hand Derek was glad when Isaac finally stopped talking because it meant he could stop feeling like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar as he stood a few feet away from Stiles, his smile gone now. On the other hand it meant that Isaac had noticed that Derek was standing only a few feet away from their new recruit.

“Am I interrupting?” Isaac asked tentatively, as the other two quickly moved away from each other.

Stiles turned back to the crates and made himself busy again with the guns, having apparently gone mute.

Derek just said, “Nope,” and looking around a little aimlessly before announcing, “I’m going to get some food.”

He made a beeline for their makeshift kitchen, wanting to get away as fast as he could even though he wasn’t sure what he was embarrassed about. He had become very unsure of himself recently and wondered about that as he heated himself up some leftover pasta. The ding of the microwave finishing its cycle was tiny in comparison to the echoing scream that rang out a second later. It was Erica.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It came from the entrance to the warehouse on Derek’s left and his head whipped around at the sound.

She was shouting for help and Derek’s eyes locked on her small body trying to hold up Boyd. It was like time slowed down in that moment as horror filled Derek. Erica was barely managing to stand under the weight as she dragged Boyd forward, fighting her own exhaustion. Boyd looked like a nightmare. He was limp, eyes drooping, face contorted in pain and his t-shirt was soaked in blood. Derek was frozen, this was wrong, all wrong. This couldn’t be happening.

When Erica screamed for help again though he snapped out of it and rushed forward to take Boyd’s weight. He could feel the warm blood from the wound immediately seep onto his own shirt. Derek shouted for Isaac to get the medkit, his mind reeling and looking over to the other man only long enough to make sure he was moving. Stiles stood behind him looking stunned and Derek worried what he was thinking but couldn’t deal with that now. He had to make sure Boyd was okay.

Derek refused to believe anything else and kept telling Erica that Boyd would be okay as he pulled the larger man onto one of the clear tables near the kitchen. He tore back Boyd’s shirt to reveal awful gushing blood around his shoulder from what he recognised as a bullet wound. When he saw it he swore and bunched up what was left of the shirt to press against the opening and tried to stop the bleeding.

Boyd cried out at the pressure and Derek winced but pushed down harder even as the blood soaked through the rag he was holding and pooled around his hands. Erica was begging Boyd to stay alive next to him and Derek could feel his own eyes stinging with unshed tears as the others gathered around.

“Who did this?” Jackson said, his voice a low growl as he stood across the table from them.

“Fucking Deucalion!” Erica spat out, her voice raw. “Deucalion’s goons, they-”

Derek heard her crack but she kept going, eyes determined.

“They found us out by the docks trying to sell some product in his territory. Fucking wimps didn’t even show their faces and Boyd heard them before I did so we ran but they… they just…” She looked down at the man on the table and stroked his face, trying in vain to ease his pain. “We got to the car and I drove as fast as I could but there’s so much blood Derek; so much…”

“Is he going to-” Jackson started, horrified, but abruptly cut himself off.

Derek felt pure boiling rage as his vision blurred and he swore he would rip these people apart for what they had done. A part of Derek questioned why he was reacting like this. He’d seen the same horrors for years for now and hell, he’d caused a lot of them too. But this was Boyd. This was Boyd and Erica was next to him and the blood was everywhere. Everything became ringing noise as he stared at his hands, covered in red and still pressing down onto the open wound. He felt himself slipping away into the feeling of hopelessness and wondered if this was shock...

“Isaac help me with this.”

A voice Derek recognised was talking, giving orders. At first it felt far away but Derek tried to bring himself back, looking around for the source.

“Derek I need you to keep pressure there while we lift him, can you do that?”

It was Stiles. Derek’s heart did a little backflip when he heard him use his name, realising it was the first time he had said it. The young man’s voice was frantic as he stood with Isaac who had returned with the medicine kit. Stiles’ eyes held a sense of urgency and seemed somehow steady despite everything. His calm was hypnotic and Derek let himself be pulled in by it, slowing his breathing. After a second’s pause he nodded and did as Stiles asked.

Isaac helped Derek lift Boyd gingerly into a sitting position. The man was in and out of consciousness but grunted when they moved him and was going pale as Stiles walked around, checking his back and starting to clean off some of the blood with a rag.

That was when Derek remembered his own training and wanted to kick himself for not checking for other injuries before. You were supposed to assess the situation first and deal with it, not let emotion get in the way like Derek had. This had all been their old surgeon’s job but that woman had worked mostly for Deucalion and had chosen sides when the tension between the two gangs and started.

Derek let out a low growl at the thought of their rival but when Stiles gave him a look he told himself to focus back on the task at hand. The bleeding had finally slowed down and Stiles looked relived.

When he spoke again his tone was urgent but held a weight of confidence. “I found the exit wound so the bullet’s out and it doesn’t look like it hit anything important. If we act quickly I think I can do this.”

Erica looked up at him, her was jaw set like she’d been grinding her teeth and her voice was like lead even though you could hear the rawness of her throat throat when she said, “Save him.”

Stiles nodded and everything happened quickly after that. Jackson was told to check Erica for injuries and, despite her protestations that she was fine, Stiles insisted she eat something and rest. She looked exhausted and Derek could see the moment she gave in as she watched Stiles’ deft hands work quickly, cleaning the wounds. She seemed to make a decision to trust him and let Jackson lead her to the couch and got her some food.

The other’s kept working with Stiles and started to clean it with the alcohol in the medkit. Derek was worried Erica would do something when Boyd cried out from the sting of disinfectant but she just looked on, visibly having to holding herself in check. Derek and Isaac at the same time had their work cut out for them keeping Boyd steady as he tried hard not to jerk away and Derek noticed his nails dig into the table where he was holding on. Derek also watched Stiles grit his teeth at the sound but keep working methodically and muttering indistinctly.

They continued like that till most of the wound was cleared of blood and dirt and the bleeding had slowed to barely more than a trickle. Stiles was talking to Isaac about not having enough of some cleaning gauze but then Jackson came back, having found some morphine and everyone relaxed a little as he administered the anesthetic.

Boyd was able to sleep after that while they stitched and bandaged his wound. All of this happened near silently and it was all a little unnerving for Derek now that everything was winding down and they were lying Boyd back down. Derek had had a strange level of calm and focus up until this point too, as if Stiles’ concentration had rubbed off on him. It was strange though; Derek had barely known Stiles a few days but he had gotten used to seeing the man talking all the time. It had become a constant thing but for the last hour he had barely said anything beyond short, clear instructions. The only time he had even used full sentences was when he explained how he knew all this from a friend who was a vet and had done patch up jobs for people who couldn’t risk being caught by the police in his old town.

Once the bandages were applied, Stiles shooed the rest of them off to bed. It had been dark outside for hours and everyone was drained. Derek stayed behind though after Isaac and Jackson went back to their apartments. Stiles tried to insist he go too but the younger man showed no sign of stopping so Derek wasn't about to let him continue on his own. The two of them carried Boyd to the living room and lay him down on the couch next to the one where Erica had fallen asleep.

Derek was impressed by Stiles’ diligence as he checked Boyd and Erica over a few more times, muttering about mandatory bed rest and finally letting his tensed shoulders relax. He went to the kitchen sink to wash off the blood on his hands and told Derek to do the same.

They were both a mess; their clothes stained, bags under their eyes and nerves frazzled but there was something soft in Stiles’ voice when he spoke to Derek now, like he was completely spent and was just glad to see a familiar face. Is that what Derek was? He wasn’t sure yet but it felt right. Boyd was going to be okay, Erica was safe and Derek let himself feel good about that. He had felt the rage and the horror but there had been more. There had been guilt. Overwhelming and unstoppable and with the sting of banished memories welling up to the surface again. He didn't know if he could survive something like that happening again and he didn’t think there was a way to express the gratitude he felt in that moment.

Stiles had saved him. Saved them all in a way. He’d held Derek steady and let him be useful and their lives were still dangerous but they would be okay. He let himself stretch and look around the sleepy warehouse. Peter still wasn't back, he probably wouldn't be until morning and someone would need to explain all this to him. He would be pissed but Derek could handle that, right now he needed sleep.

Stiles seemed to be thinking the same and was curling up into the lone armchair that was left in the living room. It was adorable really, watching him try to fold his long limbs into something that was comfortable, his eyes closed tightly against the street lamp light streaming in from the windows. Derek felt like laughing at the contrast of the vulnerability he was seeing in Stiles in that moment and the determined focus of before. Stiles was full of surprises and more of an asset than anyone had predicted. Derek couldn’t just leave him like that so he made a decision.

“Hey?” He said, and was rewarded by Stiles opening one eye and making a questioning sound. “Come on, you can sleep on my bed.”

That had the younger man sitting up straighter and shaking his head. He slurred his words slightly, almost asleep now. “No no, I'll be fine just- can't walk home tonight. I'd just face-plant on the street, haha”

There was something about a sleepy Stiles laughing that made Derek feel distracted and strange and he had to put effort into staying focused as he insisted. “Come on, you’ll have cramps in the morning if you try sleeping there. It's the least I can do.”

Stiles eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Derek took his arm without waiting for a response and led him upstairs. He didn’t argue though, following silently. They were both exhausted and Derek had to do this before he fell asleep too. Once they were in his room he kicked off his shoes and pulled out two clean shirts from the closet, tossing one onto the bed for Stiles and changed quickly. When he turned back he was confronted with a sleep soft Stiles, pulling off the bloodstained shirt he had been wearing and looking around, lost for what to do with it. Derek walked over without thinking, taking the shirt and throwing it with his own into the corner of the room. He’d get rid of them in the morning.

Everything he was doing came naturally, like breathing. He barely spoke, just let himself ride the feeling of taking care of someone which felt right and handed Stiles the spare shirt that he had set down on the bed. That was when he noticed they were standing close together, very close. Derek swallowed and forced himself to take a step back. He couldn’t do this. He tried to sort through foreign feelings he was experiencing and the familiarity that was washing over him again but it was hard with his mind clouded by drowsiness. He looked down at his bare feet before he turned to the small couch in his room and walked over to it.

Stiles spoke clearly then, “We can share the bed if you want.”

He had his back to Derek, innocently oblivious to what he was doing as he slipped on the shirt. It hung off his frame and Derek could see the moles running down the back of Stiles’ neck and in between his shoulder blades, exposed by the wide collar.

He shook his head, more for his own benefit than Stiles’ and said, “I’m okay on the couch. Get some sleep.”

Stiles shrugged, “Suit yourself.” He settled into the bed and muttered something about needing to wake up in a few hours to change Boyd’s bandages and then fell silent. Derek watched him a little longer, he couldn’t help himself as he tried to figure out this man who could go from laser focused to casual within minutes.

Eventually though, Derek pulled out a spare pillow and blanket from the closet before crashing on the couch. As he drifted off, his mind started going through everything from the day again; Boyd, the fear, the emotion, Stiles, all crushing in on him. It was different to what he normally thought about but he pushed it away, like he did every night, and fell into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abuse tw for a reference to Isaac’s past and his father  
> PTSD/Fire tw for Derek's memories and nightmares of the Hale fire  
> Blood & Violence tw for gunshot wound and description of it  
> Death tw for injured character nearing death 
> 
> Big thank you to my beta Alessandra!
> 
> Kudos and Comments are always super appreciated <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles doing more cool spy things and trying not to get distracted by Derek. It’s difficult.

Stiles woke up slowly, rubbing his face against the soft pillow and angling away from the light that was coming in through a crack in the curtains. He fisted his hands in the sheets, opened his eyes experimentally and immediately regretted his decision when the sunlight was too much. Blinking a little he yawned and it took a lot of effort to move from that blissfully comfortable position but he did eventually, his head spinning a little as he sat up too quickly.

Derek was already gone when he looked over at the couch. The digital clock on the bedside table read 9:47am and Stiles groaned, rubbing his face. He’d slept in longer than he’d meant to and would have words with that burly son of a bitch Derek who he’d told to wake him up. If Boyd got an infection and had to spend the next month in a hospital it would be Derek’s fault.

He stumbled out of bed then, his toes curling against the cold floor and slipped on his shoes, heading to the bathroom. After he’d splashed some water on his face and woken up a bit more he thought back to the last night. Everything had been going well, he was gaining the trust of the other members and even Derek seemed to be warming to him but then Erica and Boyd had arrived. In hindsight dealing with that had probably earned him a lot of brownie points with the others but Stiles was still horrified by the attack and looked down at his hands as if they might still be red.

He had treated people before of course. It was mostly Scott’s job back at the Agency but Stiles had been trained in it and had needed it on missions, but he never got used to it. Never got used to having the life of someone else in his hands. Never got used to having to see people die. It was a strange quality for someone in his line of work to have that empathy and some of his superiors called it weakness. Stiles had believed them for a while too before Scott called them out, saying that empathy was a necessary trait for an agent whose actions influenced so many people so they understood the ramifications. Lydia had convinced Stiles by telling him that his compassion made it easier to know what people wanted to hear and manipulate them better than anyone else while undercover.

Either way he felt his hands shaking as he stared down at them, clenching his fists as he thought back to all the blood and terror of last night. The look in Erica’s eyes in the end had been what made him move. He had known he could do something and so he did, managing to flip a switch inside himself and drown out everything else for long enough to help. As soon as that need had stopped and most of the others left he’d deflated and felt exhausted. It was like he’d used all his energy to hold himself together up until the point where he didn’t have to anymore and had even let himself be led into the room of a criminal, someone he was supposed to be on guard against. He was too tired to argue though and Derek had been kind.

Stiles wondered about that as he headed downstairs still wearing Derek’s shirt and his pants from yesterday. He needed to get back to his apartment, change and talk to Lydia. She’d be annoyed at him for missing his reporting time and Deaton certainly wouldn’t be happy but they would understand. He had to check on Boyd though before anything else.

He came down the stairs of the warehouse and saw that most of the others were there, the sound of the TV a background hum, mixing with low chatter and the smell of Isaac’s cooking.

Someone had taken away the table near the kitchen they’d used yesterday but there were still red stains on the ground where it had been and Stiles felt himself avoiding looking there. His eyes were instead drawn by Erica and Boyd who were cuddling on the couch, taking care to leave his bad shoulder untouched. Derek was missing but Jackson sat across from them and the three were talking together so Isaac was the first to notice Stiles approaching.

“Hey!” He said enthusiastically, turning from the stove to smile at Stiles. “You want some breakfast?” He asked, gesturing with the spatula he was holding to the omelette cooking in front of him.

“Thanks, I think I’ll just start with coffee.” He responded, still drowsy as he moved to fiddle with the coffee machine. The others stayed where they were, seemingly unsure of what to say and if Stiles was honest he didn’t know what to say either. It would all be clearer with coffee though, he was sure of that.

“Hey Stiles,” Boyd said tentatively, unconsciously squeezing Erica’s hand. “Thanks… for yesterday.” His eyes were full of respect and Erica beside him nodded her thanks.

Stiles didn’t tell them how lucky they had been the bullet hadn’t chipped bone or severed an artery. He didn’t tell them that if Erica had driven slower or hadn’t been able to carry him that he would have bled out. All he said was, “I’m glad to see you’re okay man. Make sure you drink lots and rest alright?”

“Sure thing doc,” Boyd said a little mockingly which made Jackson snort but it was goodnatured and Stiles could see that he was grateful. Boyd still looked drained and tired from the blood loss but everyone seemed to be in good spirits, considering.

“I also gotta refresh the bandages by the way.” Stiles added.

“Oh Derek already did that,” Erica said, and when Stiles gave her a confused look she continued. “He said you had to do that after a few hours but wanted to let you sleep so he did it himself.”

“Oh...” Stiles wasn’t sure why that surprised him but he just nodded and took his oversized coffee mug and moved to the armchair next to Jackson. He settled in and they all spent the next half hour or so silently watching Bones reruns on TV like there was an unspoken rule to let everyone unwind before getting back to work. He started to feel more alert after the caffeine and finally let himself analyse last night as he was sure Lydia would make him do when he reported back.

Erica had said they had been attacked by Deucalion’s people while selling product. Even worse was that Erica and Boyd hadn’t been attacked unprovoked; they had been trespassing on territory. The rivalry was escalating. Things had gotten physical and it wasn’t likely to stop now that it was personal for most of Peter’s people.

Stiles felt the pressure mounting. No one had died the previous night but the stakes had just been raised and the Agency needed to be informed. The search for the Alpha might even become secondary at this point and Allison needed to be told what was happening if she didn’t already know. For now, Peter’s people seemed like they were happy to lick their wounds and bide their time but from the research and what he had seen so far, Stiles knew the two sides were both forces that could tear this city apart. He had really only interacted with those who were at the warehouse most of the time and that he was sitting with but he’d seen dozens of others coming in and out. He’d even outfitted a few with guns and ammo.

He needed to get back to his apartment and give his report. The tracker on him would tell Lydia and the others that he hadn't gone too far from his usual routes. Spending the night at the warehouse may seem strange but not enough for them to send agents; they trusted him more than that. Once Stiles had spent nearly all of his undercover time at a taco place down the road from his target’s home where she ran all of her criminal activities. There had been a couple of rooms over the restaurant then that time though where Stiles had stayed, so Scott probably wouldn't be happy this time around.

As nice as it was to sit around watching TV with people, Stiles had to get back to work. He sighed and looked around to see if his of absence would be missed. Boyd and Erica were a tangle of limbs, her head resting on his chest but he looked like the one who was taking support from it. His brow was furrowed slightly in pain even though it was his good arm that curled around Erica. Jackson was on the couch next to them, absorbed in the autopsy that was happening on screen and Isaac was sat beside him, having finished cooking a veritable breakfast feast that was spread out on the counters since the table was gone.

Stiles stretched and sat up, about to move but at the same time he heard a door opening on the upper level and recognised Peter’s voice which had him turning his head. The man was impeccably dressed, as always, in a navy blue three piece suit and held himself with casual confidence. Derek was standing next to him listening intently as the two moved down the stairs. It was strange seeing him dressed in the same clothes he has been in last night, reminding Stiles how real it had all been, including having slept in Derek’s bed and the kindness he had shown.

Everything reminded Stiles of the Derek he had known years ago. It was too much and he made a decision to move, muttering something to Isaac about going back to the apartment. As he stood though, Derek and Peter reached the bottom of the stairs twenty feet from them and Derek looked up at him.

The moment their eyes met, Stiles could see the lines of stress forming on Derek’s forehead and wanted to help smooth them out so he smiled. Derek nodded in response, a strained smile spreading across his lips and he opened his mouth to say something, his eyes soft, but Peter beat him to it.

“Here he is, Stiles! The man of the hour!” He was walking over to Stiles with his arms open dramatically, drawing everyone’s attention to him. Stiles could tell he thrived on being the focus like that as Peter clapped him on the shoulder and gave a short speech, something about solidarity, looking after your own people and how ‘we’ll get back at the bastards that did this.’ It was all well crafted and delivered which was clear from the way the others nodded in response and seemed more ready to act than Stiles had ever seen them. Derek was giving Stiles a sympathetic look from where he was standing behind Peter and something about that made things easier to endure. Stiles had to play the excited new recruit so he had plastered a smile on his face appropriate to someone getting attention from his new boss and agreed with everything Peter said.

After getting Isaac to regale them all with tales of Stiles’ quick thinking and skill, Peter gave Stiles the unofficial new position of their resident medic and finally left for some meeting. Everyone settled back into their positions after that and Stiles watched Derek make his way over to the coffee machine and pour himself a cup wordlessly. He felt like he should leave but couldn’t without saying something so Stiles picked up his mug from the table and walked over to put it in the sink next to Derek.

Stiles didn’t want to overthink anything so just started talking. “Hey thanks by the way.”

Derek looked up from where he was adding cream to the coffee and gave Stiles a confused look, still looking tired with messy hair which made even a man of his build look vulnerable.

“For last night I mean, letting me use your bed?” Stiles tried to explain, feeling like he would never not have his foot in his mouth.

“Oh yeah…” Derek said, running a hand through his hair, distracting Stiles for a second as he watched the movement.  “It’s no problem.”

Stiles nodded and found himself smiling again. “Well thanks.”

They looked each other a little awkwardly after that, neither really having anything more to say though Stiles could see Derek thinking, like he was trying to figure something out. Stiles was about to ask about that when Isaac interrupted.

“Hey Derek you joining us? They’re airing reruns of Firefly and we all think we’ve earned ourselves a marathon.”

Both of them turned to Isaac and Derek nodded as he made his way to the couch with his coffee. When Stiles didn’t move though he looked up and asked, “You staying too?” His expression was curious and genuine and threw Stiles off a little because he wanted to give into the feeling of comfort and familiarity but there were so many reasons he couldn’t do that. Too many.

So he said, “I should get back. I smell like death probably and need a shower.” He laughed a little at the end and was glad when it came out even, proving his years of undercover experience.

Derek seemed disappointed, “We’ve got showers here, you could…”

Stiles was already shaking his head, “Thanks man but I need a fresh set of clothes too.” And some time to think but he didn’t say that.

Derek just nodded, expression impassive again even for Stiles and so he waved to the rest of them and turned to go. He thought he saw Isaac give Derek a knowing look but put it out of his head as he left the warehouse and started walking to the apartment. Once he was in his room he took a second to look longingly at the bed because apparently he was still exhausted and really didn't want to deal with work right now. Eventually though he took the phone from where it was hidden under the bed frame and stepped out onto the balcony. He waited till there was a siren ringing out in the distance before dialing.

“Agent Stilinski, where have you been?” Lydia’s voice was clipped and unimpressed. She wasn’t angry but she wasn’t happy either.

“Sorry about that Lyds.” Stiles always used her nickname when he was trying too hard and it tended to backfire because she didn’t like being called that but he couldn’t stop. “One of the others came back shot last night. Vernon Boyd.”

“Oh?” Lydia intoned with some interest but she was going to make him work to gain her favour back.

“Yeah, looks like the Deucalion-Hale rivalry has escalated. You should let Allison and the Director know.”

“Hmm…” Lydia paused in thought and sounded composed but Stiles knew she had to be worrying about Allison.

Lydia and Scott had been strongly opposed to her infiltrating such a high profile and dangerous organisation especially with all the complications of the Alpha and the Hales. When Stiles had proposed doing the same he’d come up against a lot of resistance but at the end of the day the mounting danger was the reason the Agency needed to get involved. This is what they did and everyone knew what they were signing up for so Stiles went through the motions, reporting on his movements and observations methodically. He mentioned that he had slept at the warehouse with some of the others, leaving out that he had been in Derek’s room, though Lydia mentioned him a moment later.

“Oh yeah I meant to tell you last night but you didn’t show. I got the background check results back on that Derek Hale you asked me to look into.” She spoke almost casually but it had Stiles’ heartbeat quickening.

“What did you find out?” He couldn’t help but ask a little impatiently.

Lydia paused like she was trying to read his tone but continued, “Well apparently Peter had a nephew by that name who fits the description. What’s strange though is he isn’t recorded as one of the deceased in the fire that killed Peter’s family but there are no records of where he may be now either. No bank statements, Facebook page, last known residence, nothing. No one even filed a missing person’s report, the man just disappeared.”

Stiles was frozen, his mind running over the words again and again. This was Derek, his Derek and he was Peter’s nephew. He had suspected the link of course but hearing it confirmed was something else entirely. Finding out that someone could change that much …  it made Stiles feel suddenly angry, like he’d been cheated of something. He tried to snap out of it and rationalise things. Now that he knew he could make peace with it, maybe even talk to Derek about it after this was all over. Stiles blanched though when he realised that would most likely be a conversation with Derek behind bars.

Lydia interrupted the silence that was stretching out and continued her report. “There’s some information about who he was before the fire, school reports, certificates, family photos. He was the son of Peter Hale’s older sister who was one of the victims in the fire along with his siblings. He fell off the grid around the same time as the fire though there’s not much information about him in the years leading up to that. He was in an elite branch of the marines like you and Scott actually, training around the same time too. You didn’t know him did you?”

Stiles felt a moment of panic like he needed to run. He had never been this close to a case, had never had to be. The Agency had a strict policy regarding personal cases and exploration and for good reason. It clouded your judgment. He wanted to tell Lydia the truth but he was in too deep already, he had to see this through and telling her would only make her and the others worry. He could handle this.

So he said, “Nope don’t think I did but there wasn’t exactly a lot of time to chitchat between training.” He chuckled and hated that he used humor as such an automatic defense mechanism but the lie was believable at least.

Then a thought occurred to him. “Hey do me a favour Lyds? Don’t mention this Derek guy to Scott, he’s already worried and we went up against some nasty guys in training. If he knows I’m over here with one of them who went dark side he’ll flip out.”

Lydia laughed. Softly, but it was something. “Sure thing Stiles. Honestly the censorship I have to manage between you and Allison is ridiculous. You’d think Scott would choose safer people to love.” She sounded fond and distracted and Stiles was just relieved she’d keep Scott out of this for now.

“Thanks Lydia.”

“Anytime. Now back to the business of this missing man showing up at his uncle’s criminal facility. It explains a lot actually.”

‘It does?” Stiles was a little thrown, not sure what she meant.

“Well of course, someone like that is pretty much untraceable and probably presumed dead. Makes it easier for him to go unnoticed and he’d be a great asset to Peter Hale. You said he was involved with the gun shipments that you unpacked, maybe he handles their deals or there’s something else going on.”

“I haven’t seen him leaving the warehouse much honestly but I guess you could be right.”

“Of course I’m right. What else can you tell me about him? He might be involved in the business with the Alpha even.”

“I haven't really prioritized him, I've been focused on our main suspect, Peter.” Stiles didn't want to admit that he had been avoiding Derek but it was true, he had been trying to find out more on the so far inscrutable Peter.

“Well you’d best start looking into this other Mr.Hale because at the very least he is involved in something that we don't yet know about.”

Stiles made a sound of assent as he leaned his back against the sliding balcony door.

“I’ll have Danny prep some listening devices and extra tracers for you too, they should be dropped off tomorrow at the point we discussed at the briefing. Get those planted and let us know what you find. We’ll have Allison do the same and try to map everyone before things get even more out of hand.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Stiles responded and still felt strange about Derek and what was happening but he had enough discipline not to say it out loud.

They wrapped up the call after that and Stiles went to the bathroom and showered. He left Derek’s borrowed shirt on the hook behind the door and changed into a plain grey one. Stiles knew he had to go back to the warehouse soon but let himself lie on the bed for a while, his hand going up unconsciously to touch the point on his arm where the tracer was implanted.

He’d been skeptical when the head of their technology division, Danny Mahealani, had pitched the idea of having hardware like that for all agents but it has saved him a lot of trouble on past missions and it was a lot more reliable than a cellphone or having other agents tail them. It was especially useful for undercover agents since it was untraceable they would always have it with them at all times.

Eventually Stiles rolled off the bed and put his shoes back on to return to the warehouse. Derek wasn’t on the couch anymore, presumably back in his room doing whatever he was always busy with up there. Erica was helping Boyd test out his arm and Isaac was in the armoury so Stiles went there and got back to work.

The rest of the day went past like that, mostly uneventful. Derek came out for an evening training session which he spent in the gym and sparred with Erica. Stiles was proud of himself when he only looked over a few times and wasn’t caught by Derek, though Isaac gave him a look. Everything was settling back into a sense of normality around the warehouse even though Stiles could feel some restlessness amongst the others that he was sure would manifest itself soon.

He got to bed early that night and woke at 3am with his alarm to go to the rendezvous point. It was a long walk down streets that were less than safe but Stiles knew how to go unnoticed and eventually he made it to an unmarked dumpster and found the dufflebag hidden under it. He didn’t bother checking it as he carried it back to the apartment, knowing the equipment from the agency was inside. He’d deal with it all in the morning.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day was similarly normal, Boyd was resting but everyone else was working and going through the motions. Stiles spent most of his time sneaking listening devices into inconspicuous spots around the warehouse. He was trying to think of an excuse to go up to Peter’s office so he could plant some tracers and check the man’s computer when he saw Derek.

He seemed uncomfortable as he walked towards Stiles but there was no doubt he was coming to talk to him. They both stood by the kitchen counter where Stiles had been getting a snack and waited for Derek to speak.

“Hey um.. Peter asked me to show you the garage.” Derek said, his eyes wandering to look behind him as if he couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“There’s a garage?” Stiles asked, only partly playing the clueless newbie.

“Oh yeah, we’ve got one a block over for the cars and stuff most people share. Peter figured after what happened you should get access.”

Stiles had a moment where he thought how useful a car would have been the previous night when he had to go get the tech rather than walking all the way. Then he was smiling at Derek and said, “That sounds awesome. Lead the way.”

They left together and walked towards another smaller building behind the warehouse. Neither of them spoke but it was a companionable sort of silence as Derek opened the sliding door on the side. When Stiles stepped inside he had to take a minute to pause because right there in front of him, amidst a collection of vans, pick ups and motorcycles was a stunning 2009 Chevrolet Camaro. It was sleek black with tinted windows and gun metal coloured rims and Stiles couldn’t help but step forward, running his hand across the side. He let out a low whistle and looked to Derek who was giving the car a look of fond appreciation.

So Stiles asked, “This one your’s?”

Derek nodded and smiled and Stiles could forget for a second why he was here at all. Just appreciate what Derek looked like when he cared about something. They talked for some time about car design and model, debating over whether his Camaro might be better than the newer one. Stiles realised this was the first time they had been alone since the night they had slept in the same room and he was suddenly hyper aware of himself. They were walking around the cars, fairly close to one another, Derek showing Stiles the line of keys that were displayed at the back, available for everyone to access. He seemed like he was in a good mood and more comfortable than he had been the other night. Not that the situation had been exactly ideal for a calm demeanor but still, this was the most relaxed that Stiles had seen him, recently at least.

With that thought the memory of Derek like this only a few years ago came unwanted to the surface of Stiles’ mind. They were working together to repair Stiles’ old Jeep that he’d insisted on bringing to the academy with him. Scott had given up and gone to go find the girl he’d been into at the time, another recruit by the name of Kira Yukimura and had left Stiles and Derek alone. There was something about the way Derek talked about cars, everything was simple and everything could be fixed no matter how frustrating. He never complained to Stiles about the excessive use of duct tape under the hood or him forgetting what the tools were called, he would just explain everything to him and work on the problem methodically.

How could Stiles have thought this was anyone else? The Derek that was in front of him now explaining to him the modifications that Erica had on her custom Harley Davidson bike was the same one who’d helped him fix the fuel lines on his mother’s Jeep. It was surreal and he was frozen in those two moments for a while, wondering how he was supposed to reconcile the two. This is why he hadn’t told Lydia or Scott anything. He wasn’t sure he could handle this, he just wanted to blurt it out, to let Derek know who he was and ask what had happened to him. How he could stand to be around someone like his uncle who had done so much wrong.

He couldn’t say a word though. Couldn’t even be kind to Derek beyond what was expected. He had to prove to himself and the others that he could do this job and maybe after this was all over they could talk and he could know the truth.

So as they were finishing up their impromptu tour of the garage, Stiles reminded himself of the trackers and listening devices that were in the pocket of his hoodie and told Derek that he would stay behind and have a look around the cars one more time.

After jokingly warning Stiles not to touch Erica’s bike, Derek left him there and went back to the warehouse. Stiles worked quickly then, planting the devices in every vehicle including Derek’s Camaro and taking note of the license numbers even though most of them seemed stolen judging by the pile of extra plates at the back. He wasn’t interrupted once and it all felt a little too easy even though it made sense that everyone would trust him at this point. He normally felt a sense of accomplishment after he’d done this much ground work for intelligence gathering but he just felt tired.

He took one last look at the warehouse, the Camaro standing out against the backdrop of the rest of plain vehicles. There were also two decked out Range Rovers that seemed more like a tanks than a cars and one Jaguar sedan that Stiles imagined Peter was chauffeured around in. It seemed like his style. Stiles figured he would be mostly driving around with the others in the pickups like the one he’d been brought here in and Derek had mentioned that he was allowed to borrow the motorcycles whenever he wanted.

Lydia was pleased when Stiles checked in that night and they went over the live feeds from each of the devices he’d managed to scatter around Peter’s operation. Nothing substantial yet and he needed to find a way into the offices and preferably Peter’s phone or laptop but it was a good start. They were already getting some intel on drug smuggling from the bug hidden in the car that the two thugs were using around the same time Stiles decided to call it a night.

Deaton arrived though and insisted on speaking to him. Honestly it was like none of the people at the Agency ever slept and he could almost hear their other Director, Chris Argent, admonishing him at a previous meeting about how ‘crime never sleeps Mr. Stilinski so neither do we.’ He was a little sanctimonious for Stiles but he was Allison’s father and a damn good agent so he still had a lot of respect for the man.

Deaton congratulated Stiles on a job well done so far, naturally following that up with pointed questions on all the areas he hadn’t had any luck with yet. He suggested starting to tail some of the members of Peter’s organisation since he had access to transport now or infiltrating the offices at night. Both would be extremely dangerous if Stiles were caught but Deaton insisted that he was confidant in Agent Stilinski’s abilities. Neither of them mentioned that the risk was well worth it if it would help them deal with the escalating situation and find any relevant information on the Alpha.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Going into the warehouse the next day, Stiles found that he would probably have more free time than anticipated since he and Isaac finished going through the latest shipment of weaponry and agreed to take a long break. There were too many people around for him to do anything substantial so he contented himself with listening into various conversations and checking that all the bugs were satisfactorily out of sight. Derek was nowhere to be seen and when he asked, Isaac said he was holed up in his room and that this happened every couple of week and no one really questioned it. Stiles’ curiosity was itching to find out what he was doing but there wasn’t much he could do short of barging in and asking. Derek seemed to keep his affairs private which made a lot more sense to Stiles now that it seemed he was hiding he was even alive.

Instead of staying there and stewing over why Derek was how he was, Stiles made himself take Deaton’s advice and tailed some of the others. He borrowed one of the generic silver motocycles in the garage and pulled up the GPS information on his phone for tracers. Only a few of the vehicles were out of the garage that morning, one of which he knew was Erica’s motorcycle that she’d ridden out on a few hours ago. After the night Boyd was shot, the two had barely left their shared apartment. Isaac brought them food and Stiles had gone a few times to check the wound was healing right. Erica had come back to the warehouse a few times to let off steam and train with Derek but beyond that this was the first time Stiles had seen her outside of those two places in the last few days.

He decided to follow her, keeping a good distance between the two of them and hiding behind trucks and larger vans. Deaton’s trust hadn’t been misplaced in Stiles’ ability for stealth and eventually Erica stopped down the road from the train station. Stiles only had a moment to wonder why she was here when he saw another woman coming out of the station and walking straight towards Erica. She was tall, wearing a plain tank top and had a bag slung over her shoulder, her blonde hair a little darker and longer than Erica’s and she was older too; at least 30 and held herself with a predatory confidence that reminded Stiles of Peter.

Stiles was parked down the street, only just out of sight and quickly enabled the listening device on Erica’s motorcycle to keep up as this new woman reached Erica and started talking.

“So it’s just you to receive me today? I’m a little hurt.” She said in mock sadness and Stiles could hear the pout in her tone.

“Nice to see you too Silver. You typically have other business to attend to first so we’ll give you a proper welcome when you come to HQ.” Erica looked unimpressed, leaning against her bike with her helmet tucked under her arm. Her pose was stiff though, too deliberate like she was trying hard to hide something like fear.

Stiles wondered who this Silver was as he watched Erica hand her a brown envelope that was recognisable to him as being filled with cash and say, “Your initial payment as requested.”

Silver nodded and smiled sweetly taking the package and slipping it into her bag. They shook hands a little awkwardly after that and parted ways, Silver catching a cab and driving further into the city. Stiles made a decision to follow her when he saw that Erica was just going back towards the warehouse and so spent the next twenty minutes tailing a taxi through the crowded inner city streets.

Silver had been dressed casually and had the air of a businesswoman though clearly if she was in league with Peter and his operation she was involved in something less than legal. That was when he remembered Derek and Isaac mentioning the same name when they had been unpacking the gun shipments. This woman was somehow related to their weapons trade and would be a great lead for the agency. He followed her to an upscale hotel where he would look very out of place on his plain motorcycle so parked it a block away and raced to catch her at the door.

He made sure to keep his back to her most of the time and didn’t have to wait long before she was distracted talking to the receptionist. It took $100 to convince one of the bell boys to slip a tracer onto the inner lining of her bag. The young man walked up to Silver, asking if he could take her luggage and he got told off for touching her bag without permission and shooed away but Stiles had seen the man manage to stick the near invisible bug where he needed it.

Stiles stayed until the woman went upstairs and managed to catch her room number and the name that she was using while staying here, Katherine Carlisle though he had no way of knowing whether or not that was real. There was nothing more he could do unless he wanted to risk sneaking up into her room which was potential suicide considering her affiliations and the way that Erica had been around her. For all he knew this woman could be the Alpha.

So he contented himself with making his way back to the warehouse. He’d told Isaac he was taking the motorcycle out for a test drive and it was already getting dark. After the two of them wrapped up work for the day he was happy to get back to the apartment at a decent time for the first time in days and updated Lydia briefly. The information on Silver was particularly interesting and Stiles promised to follow up on it the next day. So far the tracker on the bag hadn’t given them much, she didn’t appear to have left the hotel and they hadn’t picked up anything beyond cryptic phone calls.

Stiles showered after that and was getting ready for bed when he got a ping on his phone from one of the tracers. Derek’s Camaro was moving out of the garage. It was nearly 1am already but Stiles didn’t even hesitate, he threw on jeans and a jacket and was rushing down the stairs to where he’d parked the borrowed motorcycle outside.

It could be nothing, Derek could just have a midnight craving or something but this was too suspicious for Stiles not to look into, especially after Derek rarely having left the warehouse the past few days. It was Stiles’ job to look into this and if he was honest with himself he was worried. Worried about Derek and what he would do and where he was going.

He had to investigate this as an agent but he also needed to know for himself what Derek was involved in. So he took the motorcycle, speeding after Derek and hoping against hope that things wouldn’t get ugly tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's keeping up with this <3 Let me know what you guys think :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately life got in the way so there's just a snippet of the chapter this week. I'll update with the full thing as soon as I can, most likely next Thursday.

Derek’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he turned down a lane between two identical warehouses. He was taking the longer route that went outside of town and all around him were towering industrial shapes making him feel silent and unnoticed as he sped past in his Camaro. The area was completely deserted and he thought he heard another engine at one point but chalked that up to him being distracted or hearing an echo of his own car’s engine.

The empty night was always an invitation for Derek’s thoughts to run wild when there was no one or nothing else to distract him. As he left the massive buildings behind and got onto the empty highway he thought about Peter and how he hadn’t gotten to see his uncle before he’d left that evening. Peter knew where he was going of course and they had spoken but something in Derek felt like he should have said something more, something face to face.

Like every time he did this he questioned himself and felt the urge to question his uncle. He had promised himself not to do that though. Everything Peter asked of him was necessary and Derek reminded himself of that every day after Peter had stopped saying it.

So he set his jaw and let himself think of other things and his mind wandered to thinking of the other day, how it had felt to sit with everyone and just be without anything else. The situation that brought them together had been awful but Derek had felt so at peace, just spending time with everyone like the young people they were supposed to be. It had been disappointing that Stiles had left early but strangely enough Derek could relax more when he was gone.  

Like the previous day when he had shown Stiles the garage, Derek felt restless when he was around, like his body was buzzing with energy. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, just strange.  He was feeling more recognisable to Derek and he kept wanting to find out more about the man. He wasn’t sure whether that was the recent excitement that brought Stiles nearer to him, especially after he’d shared a room with him. He thought he’d read something somewhere about how spending time physically close to someone helped build trust.

It might have actually been Laura who’d said that. She loved that sort of feel good pseudoscience and was the sort of person who could knock you on your ass while telling you how your star sign corresponded to your subpar fighting technique. She’d been in the armed forces as well, being the reason Derek wanted to join in the first place, and had sparred with Derek that way many times. 

Derek thought Laura would have liked Stiles and the the thought of the two of them meeting makes him smile. Something about the man talking to his sister about Game of Thrones or cooking or something mundane makes him feel right inside and he lets himself fall into that feeling of introducing someone to his family. He knew though that the happiness would turn to nostalgia and bitterness for everything he can’t have. He felt it before enough times so he cut off the thoughts with practiced finality and snapped his attention to the road and the clear night.

The highway was nearly deserted, the only others on the road being a container truck, a motorcycle and a night bus all driving slower and far behind him. The car was silent, Derek couldn’t stand the stuff the radio played at night it just made him want to turn around and go to bed and regular music made him jumpy so he found himself drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

He was nearly there **.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of chapter 6. Sorry again for the delayed update folks, been struggling to write the past few weeks but should be back on track with another chapter next week. 
> 
> Some angsty Derek for you and he also gets to do cool things, debatably cooler than Stiles’ spy things but judge for yourself ;)
> 
> (Intense stuff again so end notes have some trigger warnings)

He parked a few blocks over, behind one of the suburban houses that all looked near identical to Derek but he had memorised the street maps and house numbers and wasn't about to get lost.

For a moment he remembered his parents who’d owned a house in a nice neighbourhood like this. Gated and everything with regular dog walkers that Derek remembered seeing when Laura and him went out for a run. Part of him thought he remembered having a dog too once but he was pushing the memories out of his mind before he could figure it out. Peter’s voice echoed in his head to forget the past and focus on the future; something he’d drilled into him over the years.

He turned from where he was sitting behind the steering wheel to the passenger seat and the duffel bag there and started to take out the items he’d carefully packed. First was a simple handgun which was a steadying weight and fit so comfortably in Derek’s hand that he could almost forget that he was going to have to use it.

Next was a spare magazine of ammunition and the silencer that Isaac had given him. He checked everything over, his hands moving swiftly from having done the same thing so many that he wasn't even encumbered by the dim light, going more by touch than sight as he loaded and reloaded the gun and counted his bullets. Once finished, he strapped each of the items into the custom shoulder holster he was already wearing under his signature leather jacket.

Pulling on plain black gloves from a side pocket he took out the final item, a complicated piece of tech that looked like a half assembled phone with wires sticking out and a few small lights inside. Jackson had supplied the device and though he wasn't like Isaac with his guns but he knew enough to help. Once when they were all drinking after a job, Erica had gotten Jackson to admit that he was never a tech guy and had just learnt bits and pieces from his ex boyfriend. Derek knew three things about the guy; his name was Danny, he had brown eyes that Jackson found ‘mesmerising’, and they’d broken up when the guy found out about Jackson’s criminal connections.

Derek had been sorry to hear about that since Jackson while drunk admitted that he’d been infatuated with this Danny, but stable relationships while in their line of work were near impossible. No one really understood how Boyd and Erica managed it. Then of course there was the suspicion that Danny had been law enforcement.

Something about flirting with the danger of getting caught was attractive though and Derek could see the appeal but that didn’t mean it was healthy. Not that he was one to judge what made a good relationship, having never maintained one longer than a few months and having dated no one at all in the last 5 years. Peter had been concerned at first, trying to set him up with every smuggler’s sister and pretty boy drug dealer, but eventually he’d accepted as Derek had that he just wasn’t interested in that sort of thing anymore.

Then again Derek wasn’t interested in much these days besides keeping his new family safe and fulfilling his duties.

He replaced the device in a small pouch and slipped it into his pocket and finally stepped out of the car, locking it and making his way down the street like he belonged here and was just coming home late. Most windows were dark and Derek counted the parked vehicles as he walked down the road. It was calming to see that each house had a car or jeep or pick up, meaning everyone was inside and asleep. He also spotted a golf cart, a few sports cars and a motorcycle that reminded him of the ones they had back in the garage. It was too dark to make out detail though where the motorcycle was parked in an alley between two houses and Derek had to keep moving if he was going to stay on schedule.

There was no one out this time of night beyond a few people walking together who looked like they had come from a party; all swaying, laughing and talked. They walked on the other side of the street from him and never looked up at him once but Derek’s heart still pounded faster when he walked past.

A few minutes later he was behind a line of houses walking through a small grassy patch that was just close enough to the road to have some light from the street lamps for Derek to see the outline of the house he was looking for. In the dim light he moved swift and silently, running up and jumping to hold onto the top of 10foot fence and vaulting over easily. He landed on the lawn with a soft thud as he crouched into the shadow afforded by the shed to his right.

He steadied his breathing as he looked at the spacious back garden lined with flower beds, leading up to the glass windows of the back of the house. The lights were all off save one he could see on the second floor which he knew from the floor plans was the master bedroom.

There were three bedrooms in the house, and spacious ones at that. The assistant district attorney that lived here could certainly afford a nice place despite the government salary. Derek knew how ADA Matthew Daeler had supplemented his income, it was why he was here. Or rather the recent discontinuation of those less than legal practices was why Derek was making his way around the edge of the garden, slinking through the shadows to reach the back door.

He took out the lockpicks he had in his breast pocket and made quick work of the lock but once he heard the click it was like he could hear the timer start in his head. He had 10 seconds.

The door was opened soundlessly and he rushed in, pulling out the device from his pocket. Immediately his eyes fixed on the small box like a thermostat on the opposite wall and popped off the covering with the lockpick he still had in hand. He plugged the device into the wall and there were few bleeps of sound and a low hum which put Derek on edge as he urged it to work faster in his mind. The moment stretched out but finally the light on the device turned green. Derek breathed a sigh of relief as he disconnected the wires and put the device back into his pocket.

The whole thing was completed in 9 seconds and the fact that Derek knew that was strange to consider but after having practiced this repeatedly for over a week he wasn’t surprised. The alarm system was deactivated and he hadn’t made enough sound to be heard from upstairs but he still took a self conscious look around the room and strained to listen for any sound before he took out the gun. He screwed on the silencer, flipped the safety off and held the gun with both hands down at waist level before moving slowly and silently onwards. Everything was near pitch black but there was just enough light coming through the windows from the street lamp outside that he could make out the exit from the kitchen and the hallway that went past the living room and to the stairs.

Derek couldn’t see into the living room at all because the curtains were drawn but he walked past it quickly, his focus on the route to the master bedroom. He was almost certain the light he had seen was from the bathroom. Daeler wasn’t supposed to have been awake and that made Derek’s hands feel a little unsteady under the weight of the gun but in the end it changed nothing. He had to do this and so he made his way up the stairs to the upper floor landing, the carpeted floor up here muffling his footsteps.

Then he was at the door of the bedroom and his heart was pounding in his ears as he noticed the door ajar and the warm low light of the bathroom spreading out a little into the hallway as he stood just out of sight from the inside. He took a second to listen and try to figure out where Daeler was in the room but his heart was too loud so he just took a deep breath and steeled his resolve before he changed his mind.

In one movement he had stepped forward, pushed open the door and lifted his gun to shoulder level, aiming at where he expected the bed to be. The moment he saw the room though he let out the breath he was holding and lowered the gun. There was no one there.

The bathroom door was even open and he could see that the inside was empty. A cursory check around the room confirmed the same and Derek swore under his breath before walking back to the door, his mind racing now. He couldn’t fail this mission and he was so close to being caught if he left traces. He needed to find the ADA in the next few minutes or he was finished and pushing the bedroom door open had already made noise.

He quickly checked the entire upper level, gun held up at his chest as he pushed open doors and stepped in expertly covering his position like he had been trained to do. Sometimes it stung that he spent his military training this way but then Derek would just remind himself he was just trying to do right by the only family he had left.

There was nothing to be found in any of the rooms and then it hit him. The living room. How could he have been so stupid? He hadn’t swept the lower floors at all. He felt a moment of terror as he imagined what would happen to him and what Peter would do if Matt had left the house already and Derek sped down the stairs as quietly as he could.

He was in front of the open plan living space, trying to make out the furniture in the darkness when he felt an exploding pain on his back and cried out. Reeling forward he heard panting behind him and turned back to see his target, Matt Daeler, wielding a kitchen knife and looking wild and desperate.

Derek’s body was pumping with adrenaline and fear now as he backed away into the living room and tried to lift the gun to aim but the ADA was too close and he didn’t have a chance. While Derek was trying to figure out what was happening in the dark and wondering if he should try to shoot in close quarters, Daeler managed to cut at his gloved hand and he hissed at the pain, dropping the gun.

Derek felt the warm blood on his hand and back but his eyes locked onto where the gun had fallen. Daeler looked desperate and went for it but not before Derek tackled him, trying to wrestle the knife out of his hands and get him away from the gun.

The two went careening towards the side wall where Derek pinned the ADA but it was the corner of the room where they could barely make out anything with the closed curtains. Daeler kept trying to jab Derek with the knife despite being held back and not being able to move much but it was an impossible position for Derek too. Because eventually the knife found its way into his abdomen.

The slicing pain made him lose all sense of himself for a moment as his hand went to his side and it was long enough for the ADA to slip out of his grasp and step back with enough room to easily attack again. All Derek saw was the flash of metal and he dodged back as fast as he could but he was sluggish and though he made it out of range he lost balance in his haste and fell back onto the table by the wall that was behind him.

He pulled at the curtains to slow his fall and heard the tear and he went down with a crash onto a table. Light streamed in and all he could feel was the throbbing pain of his wounds and the new bruising as he groaned in pain. Daeler let out a vicious cry as he brought the kitchen knife down again but Derek rolled out of the way, hissing as he shifted and his wounds stung.

The curtain was gone now and Derek could see better but that also meant other people might see inside. He had to end this.

He stood and backed away quickly, getting his bearings. Daeler looked rabid, his eyes filled with a animalistic fervour as he swiped the knife in front of him wildly even though Derek was out of his reach. He didn’t have a hope though because Derek grit his teeth, ignoring the pain and dove for the gun.

The second he had it in his hands he felt in control again and turned back to Daeler who looked terrified and had dropped the knife which clattered as it hit the ground. The ADA and put his hands up a split second before Derek swung the gun around to aim at him and screamed “WAIT!”

Derek winced at the sound but paused and for a second they held that position, standing in front of each other with Derek’s gun leveled at Daeler whose eyes were pleading and terrified. Derek hated that he was used to seeing that look. It made him want to crawl out of his skin and he nearly pulled the trigger just to end it all, but a moment later Daeler spoke.

“Listen Derek, I understand Peter sent you.” He was trying to keep his voice steady but it was like he was trying to talk around a lump in the back of his throat and he kept stuttering. “You don’t need to do this Derek, we’re business partners, Peter and I, and I just made a mistake see I... I thought I could get a bonus working with Deucalion instead but I was wrong okay. I’m sure we can sort this out.” He’s eyes were darting around frantically as he rambled, his hands shaking a little where they were still held out in front of him.

Derek drowned out the words and focused on bringing his finger down to rest on the trigger. This part was never easy. He was ready to squeeze when he noticed Daeler looking at the gun with a mixture of recognition and horror.

“You’re.. you’re the Alpha…” He stammered.

Derek’s blood ran cold and he reacted. There was a crack and a small flash as the gun went off and Derek wanted to look away but he couldn’t. He watched as the bullet struck Daeler between his eyes, snapping his head back and knocking him to the ground where his body landed with a thud. As his eyes glazed over and and the blood began to pool around his head, Derek turned to the door.

He felt sickly relieved that it was over but the weight of the gun felt like too much now and he put it back in the holster. The adrenaline was wearing off as well and he could feel the sharpness of the pain washing over him and he nearly let out a cry as he shifted his arm and a bolt of pain shot through his shoulder where Daeler had stabbed him.

The blood was seeping through his shirt but Derek ignored it, taking the knife from where it had been dropped near the body and took it with him back through the kitchen. Daeler was dead for his betrayal against Peter but they still had friends at the police department who would make sure any other evidence of Derek’s being here was removed. He usually just dealt with obvious evidence like the knife which he would dump later.

Some part of Derek processed that Daeler would have known the type of gun used by the Alpha from his work and would have made the connection to the other murders. He could barely manage focus through the pain beyond that though as he made his way out, wrapping a dishcloth around his injured hand and trying not to look stiff as he made his way back to the car.

As far as he could tell no one was out and no one saw him but he had bigger problems. He’d lost count of how many times Daeler had cut him and the pain was starting to get to him as he sat in the car. He’d lost a lot of blood from the wound on his back and the bruises weren’t doing him any favours. He was feeling lightheaded as he drove out of the neighbourhood and knew he needed help if he wanted to stay alive.

  
So he gunned the gas and started driving to the apartments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood TW  
> Gun Violence  
> Death TW (minor character)
> 
> Please consider leaving a comment, it really helps me to know what you guys think <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey look I’m posting on time again :D Happy new year all <3
> 
> Recap for anyone who wants: Where we last left off Derek was injured after completing the job and was headed back to the apartments. Stiles had been following him.
> 
> (General blood and pain TW plus a minor panic attack)

Stiles’ mind was running through a string of profanities as he sped past the exit of the suburban community. His mind was reeling from what he had just seen from his perch on the roof of a house across from the one Derek had entered. It had been too dark to make out much but the thermal vision goggles and what he’d seen through the window at the end had made what happened clear.

Derek had just killed someone.

He had just shot a man in cold blood and Stiles was almost certain that the man had begged for his life. Stiles felt drained and defeated; he’d never expected to see so much that night. Death was something he was used to and had to deal with but it didn’t mean he liked it and sure as hell didn’t mean he felt any less guilty about not being able to stop it.

Stiles had thought Derek was just on an intelligence gathering mission or even going to a meeting of some kind after Stiles recognised the address from his previous dealings with the district attorney’s office. Most of the city knew that Matt Daeler was a crooked official who dabbled in illegal affairs but there was never enough proof to convict him or even remove him from office. It made sense that Daeler could be working with the Hales or other syndicates and that Derek had been going to discuss business. That’s what Stiles had expected to see and they would simply question Daeler after it was done.

Things had gone sideways fast though and Stiles had had no time to react once the fight had started. He’d barely even made it down the building he was on top of before he looked through the window and saw it. He didn’t want to believe it but the heat scanner confirmed Daeler’s body going limp. There was nothing Stiles could have done but he had still failed in his mind.

He didn’t have any time to wallow in guilt though as he gunned the engine of the motorcycle and sped down a side road short cut. He didn’t even have any time to call in to HQ and tell them what happened because if he didn’t make it back to his apartment in time Derek could be in trouble.

Stiles had seen the blood on him when he’d left the apartment. Derek had done a good job of hiding the pain but Stiles knew from experience how someone held themselves when they had bruised ribs and hadn’t missed the red stain on the hand held at his side. Stiles had been in the alley across the street and constantly afraid that Derek was going to turn around and see him, blowing his cover. The strange thing is Stiles almost wish that he had.

Then he might have been able to treat him immediately rather than both of them driving halfway across town. Stiles really didn’t want to have to watch someone else die tonight and have it be his fault because he had to protect his stupid cover. This was _Derek_. He couldn’t turn around though, didn’t have time to check the tracer on Derek’s car because he had to focus on driving and not crashing because that was a real danger with how fast he was holding.

He just sent up a prayer that Derek could hang in there and switched off his brain to focus on getting back as soon as possible.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Stiles heard the knock on his apartment door about 3 minutes after he’d gotten back himself which had been just enough time to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt and mess up his sheets to make it look like he’d been sleeping. They were the most stressful 3 minutes of his life and even though he had been waiting to hear Derek knock, he had to wait a second before opening the door and put some effort into looking like he’d just woken up.

He messed up his hair for the third time and went to open the door, forcing himself to do it slowly and squinted at the hallway lights like he wasn’t accustomed to the brightness yet. Derek stood outside looking awful and Stiles didn’t even have to pretend to be surprised because the sight of all the blood up close, now soaking his shirt was enough to have his eyes going wide.

“Dude what the hell? Get in here!” Stiles managed to say before taking his arm and pulling him inside. He pointed at the armchair across from the bed and said, “Sit.”

He didn’t even wait for a response before flipping on the lights and digging into his cupboard for the first aid kit that Isaac had given him to keep the other day. When Stiles looked back and brought the box over, Derek was settling stiffly into the chair, his face contorted in pain and his left arm held gingerly at his side. He looked like he was trying hard not to pass out and didn’t say a word beyond grunting in pain as he shifted to sit.

Stiles crouched by Derek and tried to examine the cut that must be causing all the bleeding on his side.

“What the fuck happened Derek?” He said as he pushed the jacket aside and lifted the shirt, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice but surprised when his words sounded more like he was angry than worried.

Derek just grunted again, his eyes screwing shut against the pain as Stiles moved the bottom of the shirt and the wound was exposed to the cold air of Stiles’ room.

“Sorry,” Stiles said, wincing at the nasty gash he could see on Derek’s lower abdomen. “You’re going to have to take off the jacket. Are there any more cuts?” He asked, as he moved back a bit to give him room.

Derek nodded and stood as Stiles watched him pulling at his jacket and gritting his teeth as the material no doubt dragged against other cuts. Before Stiles could stop himself he was stepping forward and taking the jacket in his hands.

“Let me,” Stiles said, meaning to be businesslike but the words came out soft and worried.

Derek said nothing, just let him remove the jacket and put it on the chair. Stiles eyed the gun holster that Derek removed next but his hands were slick with blood and he was struggling so Stiles removed that too, not looking too long at the weapons and they seemed to have a silent agreement that he wouldn’t ask anything more before Derek was okay.

His face eased as Stiles put the holster on the back of the chair and looked back as Derek lifted a hand to his right shoulder, touching the back gingerly. Stiles immediately stepped around him to get a better look and had to stop himself from letting out a gasp at all the all the blood. He was going to be sick and kept wishing Scott could be there, the other man was so much better at this. Stiles was a field agent not a medic but there was no one else who could do this right now so he sucked in a breath through his mouth and steeled himself to deal with the bleeding man in front of him.

“What happened?” He asked again, softer this time as he stepped in close to Derek’s back and parted the tear in the shirt to get a better look at the wound. It looked like a clean cut, a lot deeper than the one on his abdomen and probably from the same weapon. Worse, this one was still bleeding.

Derek winced and responded, his voice gruff but trying to stay level despite the pain. “Got into a fight, other guy had a knife.”

Stiles nodded as he walked back around to face Derek and spoke before he could stop himself. “I’d hate to see the other guy,” he said smirking bitterly and wishing humor wasn’t always his response to difficult situations like this.

Derek’s expression went dark and distant at his words and Stiles’s mind flashed with the image he’d seen through the window of Matt Daeler’s head snapping back and his body falling to the ground.

“Right umm… you need to take off your shirt too.” Stiles added hastily. Those thoughts wouldn’t help him now.

Derek just nodded and after a few painful attempts, Stiles helped him pull the blood soaked shirt up and over his head. Stiles tried to keep his mind on the task and not think about the fact that he was undressing a man he barely knew anymore who had just killed someone. Tried hard not to think about how the blood stained Derek’s back completely or how Stiles had to stand so close he could hear his shallow breathing and the pounding of the other man’s heart. The smell of the blood and sweat was overwhelming.

Once it was done Stiles looked down at his hands and felt the whole world shift under him as he felt the cold sticky blood coating them the same as a few days ago and rushed to the sink to scrub it off. He needed clean hands to help Derek but he wasn’t thinking about that he just need it _off_. Once it was gone he noticed his breathing had sped up and was distantly aware that he was in shock, that seeing someone murdered and then having to race back to his apartment like hell itself was chasing him had left him buzzing with too much energy and somehow numb at the same time. His body was still pumping with the adrenaline from before and when he looked down at his hand they were shaking.

He couldn’t do this. He didn’t know what he was doing and he started to feel the panic settle in before he clenched his fist and snapped his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. He had to do this. His nails digging into the palm of his hands helped ground him a little and he shook his head and turned back gritting his teeth. He couldn’t afford to lose focus now when Derek needed him. Killer or not, a man needed his help. He towelled his hands off roughly before walking back to Derek who had slumped into the chair, looking exhausted and was holding the tattered remains of his shirt against the wound on his back to try to stop the bleeding.

Stiles finally stopped to take a look at Derek. His toned torso was covered in blood but beside the cut on his side and back there didn’t seem to be any other wounds from the knife on him. He did see awful purple and yellow bruising that was just starting to appear around Derek’s ribs under the blood though. As if on cue Derek grunted against the pain as he shifted in his seat and looked like he might tip out of his seat. Immediately Stiles stepped forward put his hands around Derek’s sides to steady him, carefully avoiding touching the wound there.

Derek sucked in a breath at the contact and looked directly at Stiles like he’d been burned. Neither of them pulled away though and they froze like that for a second, Stiles crouched in front of Derek and steadying him, their eyes confused and searching. Stiles felt like he should say something but for once the words didn’t come to him and then Derek spoke.

“Thanks.”

His voice was raw and Stiles could hear how much pain he was in but it was genuine and warmed something in Stiles’ heart. He could do this.

“No problem,” He responded automatically and felt how much Derek trusted him in the way the other man gave him a strained smile at that. Stiles felt a wave of guilt and had the urge to admit who he was and why he was here. Just tell Derek everything. But no matter how much he wanted that, this wasn’t the Derek he knew and Stiles couldn’t do that so he made himself reassess the situation and get back to work.

Belatedly Stiles realised his hands must be cold where they were still at Derek’s sides but it seemed to be helping. He remembered Scott saying something about ice packs being good for bruising this bad but he had to take care of the cuts first.

“Keep pressure on that cut back there,” Stiles said in a clipped tone as he knelt more comfortably in front of Derek and picked through the first aid kit for supplies. He took out the cotton swabs and alcohol handed Derek some painkillers. “You’ll need those, and I’ll take care of this cut first.” He continued, as he moved to clean the cut on his side and Derek nodded and dry swallowed the pills.

The blood had smeared around the opening and made it look nasty but after cleaning it Stiles could see the bleeding had almost completely stopped. He worked as quickly as he could and tried to be gentle but still felt Derek’s muscles tense where the alcohol stung and he managed to stay mostly silent but occasionally winced or made a sound like he would cry out but had bit it back.

Stiles gave Derek an apologetic look but continued bandaging that wound when it was done and moved on the the gash on Derek’s back. The bleeding had slowed enough for Derek to remove the bloody remains of his t-shirt and for Stiles to start cleaning. Both the wounds luckily hadn’t been infected and didn’t have anything stuck in them that wasn’t easily removed but the second cut took Stiles much longer to clean and he grimaced at how deep it was.

Derek’s shoulders were tensed against every touch and Stiles could see where the other man’s hands were tightly clinging to the arms of the chair, knuckles white from trying to keep himself from moving. Stiles was nearly done before Derek jerked in his seat and cried out as Stiles was working at picking out a small shard of glass from the wound. Derek nearly slipped out of his grip but Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s bare shoulder and held him in place. Once the shard was removed he was able to use adhesive strips like butterfly stitches to close the wound and figured it should be enough so he bandaged it after that.

Once it was done both of them seemed to relax and Stiles could see the tension drain from Derek’s shoulders as he slouched a little more comfortably in the armchair. Stiles still had to take care of the cut on the back of Derek’s hand but it felt much simpler than the rest.

Stiles moved back around to crouch in front of Derek and took the other man’s injured hand in his own and got to work cleaning.

“Thank you for doing this,” Derek said awkwardly but genuinely, “I know I barged in here late and looking like hell.”

“It’s nothing really,”Stiles responded, brushing it off, “you could have even done this for yourself in a pinch. Not that I wouldn’t be there I mean I hope I can stick around for a while with you guys but you know what I do isn’t all that complicated really it’s just-”

“Stiles,” Derek said, cutting him off and smiling, “Thank you. I mean it.”

Stiles knew he had been rambling and was thankful for Derek cutting him off before it got to be too much. The other man was looking at him with a fond sort of expression that felt strangely intimate given how close they were and that Stiles was holding Derek’s hand in his own.

It made him think and Stiles let his hair fall in his eyes a little and asked Derek without looking up from what he was doing, “So what really happened?”

Stiles told himself that he was doing his job, that he was supposed to gather intelligence on the Hale syndicate and all of its activities but the larger part of him wanted to know what Derek was involved in. He needed to know if this was going to get a man who used to be his friend killed and more than anything he needed to know what could turn him into a killer.

Derek sighed and for a moment Stiles didn’t think that he was going to answer but a moment later he did. “It was… a job for Peter. He- that is he wanted me to go and take care of something and it didn’t really go as planned.”

Derek looked away after that but Stiles heard the uptick in the man’s voice when he’d said ‘something’ and he didn’t need the weeks of psychology training to tell him that was Derek deflecting. Stiles’ mind flashed with the image of Daeler’s body again and he shuddered. When Derek had said something he had meant someone.

Stiles asked in a raw voice as he finished bandaging the hand and looked up at Derek, “What went wrong?”

He was beyond trying to keep his voice steady and knew the concern and fear was bleeding into his voice and his expression but couldn’t stop himself. Derek just returned his gaze and looked troubled.

“It was… I messed up my approach. It was stupid I shouldn’t have-” Derek looked like he was a loss for words but didn’t look away from Stiles that time. He just looked at Stiles as if he could search the other man’s eyes to find the answer and Stiles wished more than anything that he could give him what he needed. Stiles just wanted to help fix everything. He’d patched Derek up this time but what about next time? What if he didn’t come back?

Stiles couldn’t bear that. He’d watched a man die that night and it only served to remind him how fragile people were. This may not be a Derek he recognised but it was still Derek and he wanted to be able to do something to help him.

“Why would you take that risk at all Derek?” Stiles said without thinking.

Derek seemed surprised for a moment but his eyes softened and it seemed like he could almost smile as he said, “For my family,” like that explained everything. A second later though he continued, “I had to take care of a threat, Peter explained everything and it made sense. I... lost my family once and what I have left now is small but it’s still good. Yeah… still good and worth protecting. I’d do anything for them.”

He spoke wistfully and full of a sense of duty that reminded Stiles so much of the values they were both taught in their training before Derek had disappeared. His chest ached at the memory and he saw how Derek looked at him with the hope that Stiles understood.

 _I understand more than you could know_ , Stiles wanted to say. But he bit his tongue and couldn’t stop thinking of how sad Derek looked when he’d mentioned his family. Stiles had read the file of course and knew what had happened but he’d also lost his own mother when he was young and knew the constant pain of that. He carried it with him every day and his heart went out to Derek.

The older man seemed to be thinking and talking almost to himself as he continued, “It’s necessary but I never wanted to be what Peter made me. He said we needed to make a statment, have a fancy title or something, I don’t even know why he picked the name Alpha…”

On some level Stiles knew Derek was still speaking but everything screeched to a standstill and narrowed to those few words.

Stiles’ eyes went to the holster on the back of the chair. The gun, of course. It was the right make and model and he knew there was a bullet missing tonight. It made sense. The murder matched the previous killings that he’d read the files of countless times. All the victims were criminals or alleged criminals, mostly high ranking officials or wealthy benefactors. All shot in their homes with the same handgun. This one probably even had the pristine crime scene and no evidence left behind besides the bullet.

It made sense and yet Stiles couldn’t believe it. Or maybe he just wouldn’t. Derek had stopped talking though and was looking at him concerned and Stiles had to say something.

“I’m sorry about your family…” He said hesitantly, wanting to look away but Derek reached out and put a hand on Stiles’ arm, making his freeze but he made himself stay still and not jerk away from the touch.

“It was a long time ago.” Derek said, his voice full of the things he didn’t want to say “Thank you though Stiles, really. I don’t know why it’s so easy to talk to you but thank you.”

The vulnerability and openness of his words caught Stiles off guard and his attention was split between what Derek was saying and the point of contact where the other man’s hand was still on his arm. His heart was pounding faster and he wasn’t sure why but Stiles was suddenly aware of how close they both were.

He was crouched right in front of the man whose large frame was only inches from him that Derek had hardly needed to move to put his hand on Stiles’ arm. They had needed to be close when Stiles was treating Derek but now he wasn’t sure what they were doing. He couldn’t think, his mind just kept going back to Derek admitting to being the Alpha, it wasn’t sinking in, he couldn’t accept it.

Derek noticed Stiles’ silence and looked away, muttering an apology. He pulled his hand back and Stiles’ arm felt suddenly cold. He felt like he should say or do something but before he could Derek spoke.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to dump all that on you I just- You’re easy tell this stuff to and I’m sorry if I overstepped uh… Thank you. Again- for patching me up I mean,” He said, giving him a pained smile.

Stiles felt himself smiling back fondly and had the strange urge to to tell Derek off for babbling because that was supposed to be his thing. Then the reality came back to him and instead he straightened and made himself step back, looking away from Derek and muttering “You’re welcome.” What Derek had admitted to… it changed everything.

“Hey is that my shirt?” Derek said, standing from his seat and walking over to the bedside table at the back of the room.

Stiles followed his movements with his eyes, feeling like he’d missed something but then Derek retrieved the shirt that Stiles had borrowed that night when they’d shared a room.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to return that,” Stiles said, “you should take it back you know since you don’t have a uh...” his words failed him at the end as he looked back at Derek’s shirtless torso.

“I will thanks,” Derek said, seeming not to notice Stiles’ slip as he put on the shirt.

Stiles didn’t know what to do with himself and was still not sure what he was supposed to with himself, he just needed to report in. Lydia would help him figure everything out.

Derek once dressed seemed a little lost too, looking back at Stiles as if for some sort of cue. After a moment’s hesitation Stiles decided.

“You should probably get back and get some rest. Are you okay to drive?” He asked.

Derek nodded, looking tired as he finally gave into the idea of sleep, “That sounds good,” he said and started to make his way to the door.

Stiles walked him out and they just smiled at each other and nodded, Derek saying thank you one last time before Stiles waved him off.

It hurt to send Derek away without talking to him about everything but that wasn’t Stiles’ call. Maybe after everything else he would have a chance but he couldn’t afford hope like that so he just cleared up the medical supplies, threw away the blood soaked t-shirt and washed his hands again. After splashing some water in his face he felt a little more awake but didn’t even want to check what the time was.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lydia sounded groggy when she finally responded to his call. "This better be good Stilinski."  
  
"Listen, you are never going to believe this," he said and could almost hear Lydia's eyes rolling.  
  
Her skepticism didn't last long though as he explained the events of that night, focusing on what happened at the mansion and skimming over when he got back to the apartment.  
  
"I saw everything Lyds, he even confided in me and practically admitted to doing it." His voice was panicked and he was sleep deprived but prided himself that he managed to keep himself mostly steady.  
  
"Freaking hell Stiles. Well I guess good work. I'm glad you're safe."  
  
"Thanks," he said even though he'd felt bad about her insinuating Derek would hurt him.

Derek had never shown any inclination to wanting to do that but he was an assassin after all. Stiles still couldn’t believe it but knew he was dangerous and couldn't afford to forget that no matter what happened between them. Just because he now knew who Derek was didn't mean it went both ways and Stiles didn't want to think about how the man would react when he found out. Stiles should have control over it though, the Agency will ask him to bring The Alpha in. It's normally his favourite part being able to reveal his identity but this time he wishes he didn't have to at all. Wished he could just go back to those early days of training.  
  
He sighed, his life had taken an unexpected turn recently but things should be over soon so he tried to say with a cheerful voice, "Looks like now I can come home, I'm sure Scott will be thrilled."  
  
"What?” Lydia said incredulously, “Stiles, you got The Alpha to trust you. You can't leave now when you can get him to give you a breakdown of Hale's entire operation!"  
  
"Oh.. Right." He felt sick.  
  
"I'm surprised you didn't suggest it yourself honestly."  
  
And she had a point, Stiles always got the maximum information while undercover before bringing anyone in. 

He wanted to argue, wanted to kick and scream like a child. It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t fair what he’d gone through tonight. Wasn’t fair what Derek had to do, any of it. Stiles hated what Peter had done to his friend, hated that things had gone this wrong and more than anything he hated that there was nothing he could do. He felt powerless.

He needed to talk to Scott but that would mean telling him that he knew Derek. Knew their biggest target and that he was personally compromised. Scott was defend him but would eventually cave and tell the Directors. Stiles would be taken off the case and no matter how much the things he would have to do made him feel like a traitor he couldn’t walk away from this.

He may not have a lot of control but he could give Derek his best chance when the syndicate eventually went down. Maybe even get him to cut a deal for a reduced sentence, as the leading agent on the case Stiles would be able to testify to Derek’s co-operation. It wasn’t much but it was all he could do.

“Stiles?” Lydia’s voice came crackling through the phone line and Stiles realised he must have spaced out for a minute.

“Yeah gotcha,” He responded quickly, trying to inject his usual enthusiasm for a job into his words, “stick close to the big bad wolf, make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else, figure out what he knows and report back.”

He heard Lydia huff out an exasperated laugh on the other end of the line. “Alright Stiles. I’ll let the directors know in the morning. Get some sleep will you?”

Stiles smiled at her maternal tone, “Thanks Lyds I will. Goodnight.”

He hung up and felt a rush of guilt at hiding the truth from her, from Derek and everyone else in his life really. He looked out over the sleepy city from where he stood on the balcony; it was silent and dark save the street lamps and few sirens he heard in the distance. He took in a shuddering breath and tried to convince himself that he was making the right decision as he made his way back inside, knowing he wasn’t going to get much sleep that night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek deals with his feelings. Badly.
> 
> Also bonus fluff with the squad/pack because I love them all

 

Derek woke slowly, feeling cold and pulling the blanket up to his chin. He screwed his eyes shut against the light from the window and rolled over to face the door. Or he tried to at least. Moving made all of his muscles tense as his right side touched the bed and he remembered why he had slept on his left as pain shot through his shoulder and lower abdomen.

He let out a low groan as he flipped back over onto his left side slowly, a hand going to massage his aching shoulder. The pain had subsided from the piercing agony of the previous night and Derek slowly sat up in his bed. His body was stiff and sore but he knew from experience that that was what it felt like when it was healing.

He lifted his shirt and saw that the bandage had a splotch of red but didn’t look too bad and the bleeding felt like it had completely stopped. His ribs had blossomed into impressive shades of purple and yellow and Derek took great care with them when he eventually got out of bed and went to change and clean up. The bathroom mirror revealed that he looked worse than he felt, bags under his eyes, exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders despite having slept in and a haunted look in his eyes that he had come to recognise. 

He didn’t look too long, splashing water on his face and resolving himself to face the day even though all he wanted to do was retreat under the sheets and pretend like the previous night hadn’t been real. So of course as he stepped out of his room and made his way down the hall to Peter’s office, all he could think about was what had happened.

He felt the weight of the gun as if it was still in his hand and saw the look in Daeler’s eyes again the moment the bullet had lodged in his forehead and his eyes had gone dark. He felt the stinging pain from the cuts in the cold air as he rushed back to the car and then the dizziness from blood loss as he ran upstairs to the apartment. Derek had been shaking, his vision going blurry from exhaustion and when Stiles had opened the door all he’d wanted to do was collapse into his arms.

Derek could still feel Stiles’ hands on him, diligently cleaning and bandaging the wounds and the concern clear in his voice and body language. It had made Derek feel safe and maybe that was why it had been so easy to tell him everything. 

He hadn’t meant to say anything at first. Derek knew he could let the professional relationship they had be just that but something about Stiles was so familiar and comfortable and Derek had slipped. He’d felt at ease and had let himself talk like he hadn’t with anyone in a long time. And what was stranger still was that Stiles had listened. 

Derek had admitted things he wouldn’t even let himself think about much before clamping down on them. He’d said so much more than he usually would and was still a little surprised at himself. Being around Stiles felt right and that’s what made it even harder for him to think back on the previous night and what he’d admitted about what he was. 

Stiles’ face when he’d brought up the Alpha still made Derek’s chest ache. There was shock and disbelief but all Derek remembered was the raw fear in Stiles’ eyes like he might recoil from him. It was like a dagger to the heart and as someone who’d been stabbed the previous night he was familiar with the pain but the guilt and regret hurt more.

After he’d said it he’d shut down, running on autopilot and hastily trying to apologize and leave but how do you make up for something like that? They were both criminals and he knew neither of them were saints but what Derek did was different. He was a killer for fuck’s sake and spent half his time trying not to hate himself. It was no wonder that someone as kind as Stiles would be repulsed by him.

If he’d just kept his mouth shut maybe he and Stiles could have been okay but now that he knew Derek just hoped he wouldn’t have to be around the other man too much. He didn’t want to see that look of fear again.

He knew he had to deal with his mistake though and had lots of other things to be worried about so brushed off the thoughts and stepped up to the door of Peter’s office, knocking and entering before he got an answer.

Peter was inside, sat behind a large mahogany desk with piles of neatly stacked papers, a Macbook and a mug of coffee set on the side. The room was spacious, about the size of Derek’s bedroom and had a couch at the back, a few filing cabinets, a painting of a wolf on the wall and two formal but worn armchairs set in front of Peter’s desk. The man himself sat on a high backed office chair which was turned away from the door as Peter talked loudly on his phone about the “abysmal state of today’s political and legal systems.” 

Derek sat in one of the armchairs as he always did and waited. 

Eventually Peter laughed at whoever was on the other end of the line and ended the call before he turned his chair back to face his nephew.

“Derek great to see you!” He said grinning like he always did when things went his way, “I heard the business last night was taken care of, great work.”

Derek just nodded and shifted uncomfortably. 

“Ah looks like you got a little banged up in the process,” Peter commented lightly as if he’d forgotten his umbrella on a rainy day. “Well here’s hoping you make a quick recovery especially with young Stiles working with us. Now, I assume you came for a purpose beyond receiving my compliments on last night’s job?”

He was right; Derek had been troubled over the last few weeks and even more so over the last few days ever since Boyd and Erica came home bloody and terrified. He knew what it meant, knew that things were changing and they would all have to face the consequences soon. He’d even noticed his recent targets were all linked to their enemies and must have been chosen specifically to lessen their power and control. Peter had been setting the stage for weeks and it seemed now the game was finally about to start.

“I want to know what we’re planning to do about Deucalion.” Derek stated simply.

Peter frowned. “Ah yes you must be wondering about that unfortunate incident with Boyd. Well you were there when I gave my speech to everyone but I suppose you’re looking for specifics?”

Derek made a sound of assent.

“Hmm you don’t really need to know yet Derek but since you’ll be involved in the next phase of this a little more publicly I can tell you that I do have a plan in place to retaliate. I’ve heard that Deucalion's second, Kali, sets up shop in a bar down on the west side.”

“And you intend to attack her?”

“Not myself no, I expect you and a few of the others to handle that bit. I imagine Ms. Reyes will be quite eager to participate once she hears of it.”

“I’m sure she will be,” Derek responded in a deliberately calm voice, “Won’t that escalate the situation though?”

“We need to show strength at a time like this,” Peter responded coolly, ignoring Derek’s question, “I’m certain this will level the playing field and we’ll handle what happens next from there.”

Derek knew that Peter had no intention of telling him his true plans but he’d revealed enough. What was troubling was that Peter didn’t seem like he wanted the war to end any time soon. He was going to play this out and gamble with everyone’s lives for a chance at greater power and though Derek knew the danger he also knew he would support his uncle in whatever schemes he was plotting and his friends would do the same. They were family after all and were going to protect what they had. 

Derek let himself look back at Peter and nodded, “I’ll defer to your good judgement then. Let me know when I am needed.

Peter smiled, “I will, thank you Derek.”

He took his leave after that, taking a calming breath once he stepped out of the office. War was coming and he was still sore and tired but knew he needed some time around the others after what he’d been through the previous night. It helped to be around them to remind him that he did have a reasons behind what he had done. Stiles’ look of fear flashed in his mind for a moment. There was nothing he could do about that anymore though so he pushed away the guilt and moved down the hall and to the stairs.

The living room and kitchen had the usual suspects. Erica and Boyd were on the couch chatting over the background noise of the TV and Jackson was making himself some brunch having no doubt woken nearly as late as Derek. He could see Isaac and Stiles in the back shelves milling around and was thankful they probably couldn’t see him as he made his way down and to the kitchen.

He said a sleepy good morning to the others and started to brew himself a fresh cup of coffee.

“And good afternoon to you too sleepy head,” said Jackson snidely, winning him a dark look from Derek.

Jackson was harmless but still a pain in the ass and Derek really didn’t want to deal with him that morning so he retreated to his favourite couch and settled in with his coffee. He had all of three seconds to himself before Erica was leaning forward and 

“Derek what is _that_?” Erica said as she gingerly touched the bandage on Derek’s hand.

“Oh um, got into a fight,” He replied, taken off guard.

“What do you mean? When did this happen?” She said, concerned.

Derek sighed, he normally came back with only a few bruises and never had to explain much. He wanted to tell them all of course but Peter had talked him out of it, saying that it would protect them if they didn’t know even though Derek knew it was likely because his uncle didn’t trust the others. He was thankful now though, having seen how someone reacted to finding out what he was. He would keep up the charade with everyone else and just hope Stiles didn’t say anything to the others.

“It’s nothing Erica, just a scrape.” Derek insisted.

She didn’t look convinced but a moment later Isaac and Stiles appeared presumably having heard Erica and Derek was distracted by deciding whether or not he should make some excuse to leave before he had to talk to Stiles.

“Hey Derek,” Stiles said before he could make good on his plans of escape. “How you feeling?”

He seemed sincere but there was something off about him, like he was struggling to get the words out or even be around Derek but he was being polite and Derek had to keep up appearances around everyone.

“I’m better thanks,” he responded stiffly, skin crawling with discomfort and the need to be away from Stiles. He was terrified of being judged or exposed.

Stiles just nodded and continued, “I should probably replace your bandages by the way.”

Derek felt numb as he resolved himself to having to be around Stiles for now and it seemed like the other man had resigned himself to it so Derek just nodded and said “Sure.”

Stiles went to get the medkit, returned to sit by him and started working on the bandage on his hand. Derek knew Stiles’ curt responses and behaviour could just be sleep deprivation but all he could think was that he’d made the only person who he’d felt he could be honest with hate him.

Stiles’ cold hands brought him out of that train of thought for long enough for him to flinch away reflexively before forcing himself to put his hand back into Stiles’. The contact reminded him of the previous night.

“Sorry,” Derek said and tried to push as much of the regret he felt for what he had done into that apology but knew it wasn’t enough. 

“It’s fine,” Stiles muttered without even looking up from what he was doing and seemed to accept the apology for Derek’s shaky hands.

Isaac and the others were watching Bones on TV but turned to look when Stiles had finished unwrapping the bandage to see the gash on Derek’s hand. It was the shallowest of the three and Derek was thankful for that because Erica already looked murderous.

“Derek are you sure you’re okay?” Isaac asked.

“Is there someone we need to have a little chat with?” Erica added.

“I’m fine guys really. Stiles patched me up good as new,” Derek said, trying to inject some humor into his words but knew it wasn’t really his area.

Erica took the hint to ease off though thankfully and smiled. “Getting treatment from the good doctor in private hours eh?” She joked.

Derek smiled back and attempted a laugh but knew he shouldn’t say anything more. Stiles was silent as he focused on his work and once he’d finished he looked up at Derek, his expression carefully blank.

“Gotta do the other two now.” Stiles said.

Derek wasn’t sure why Stiles was mentioning that but a moment later he realised.

“Oh do you need my shirt off?”

“What’s this about Derek taking off his shirt?” Erica chirped, far too excitedly for Derek’s taste.

Derek rolled his eyes and cursed Erica’s good hearing.

Stiles turned to her and said, “Gotta replace Derek’s bandages and they’re under his shirt so-”

“I’m not undressing in front of all of you,” Derek said, cutting in with a pointed look at Erica before looking back at Stiles, “We can head up to my room.”

He was about to stand when Erica scoffed. “C’mon Derek it’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”

Isaac laughed in the background and Derek felt his cheeks get hot.

“Yeah Derek,” said Jackson slyly, “Remember last year with the Russians? That was a good time.”

Derek sputtered, “We agreed never to talk about that again and you know what happens when we all drink too much.”

“You mean when  _ you _ drink too much,” Erica teased and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Consider it an induction for the new kid,” Boyd supplied and Erica nearly choked laughing.

Derek hated them both and wanted to run immediately but as he turned to Stiles for support he saw him trying to hide a blush and smiling at the others. Their eyes met and younger man just shrugged as if to say ‘why not?’.

“Well if I  _ have _ to,” Derek grumbled as he pulled off his shirt to the sound of the others whooping and whistling.

It was hell and Stiles didn’t join in but Derek noticed his eyes lingering a second longer than needed with an expression that could be appreciation before he started to unwrap the bandage. The ordeal was almost worth it for that. 

The others made lewd comments and jeered but eventually gave up when Derek didn’t respond and went back to what they were doing. Stiles worked quickly and was quiet like before. Derek wondered what he must think of him and remembered Laura telling him once never to assume others’ opinions. The look in Stiles’ eyes had been clear but Derek thought that it might still be worth asking so before he changed his mind he made himself speak.

“Stiles…”

The young man made a small sound of acknowledgement as he leaned down a bit to tighten the bandage.

“About yesterday I-”

“Hey Stiles you ready to go?” Isaac called from where he was fiddling with a gun at his usual post at the back of the room, cutting Derek off.

The moment dissolved as Stiles turned back to Isaac and said, “Be right there, just finishing up.”

Stiles tied off the bandage and stood. He seemed about to say goodbye when he turned back to Derek and asked, “Hey you’re not doing anything today right?”

“Not really why?” Derek asked, confused.

Instead of replying Stiles turned back to Isaac who was walking towards them with a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey Isaac is it cool if Derek tags along?” Stiles asked.

Isaac looked up from the bag he was rummaging in and gave them both a look before he said, “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“Great,” Stiles responded smiling and turned back to Derek, “We’re going out for supplies that the bossman said we’ll need soon or something. I know you’re on the bench right now but it’ll be good for you to get out. Boyd too but he seems pretty happy where he is.”

Derek looked back at Boyd and Erica where they were curled up on the couch in what had become their typical spot since Boyd had been shot. He was surprised Stiles was offering but didn’t really have an excuse to turn it down if their resident doctor was recommending he go out.

So he nodded and said, “Sounds good,” following as Isaac walked out the door.

Stiles sped up to walk side by side with Derek as the three of them made their way to the garage. There was companionable silence for a minute before Stiles seemed to remember something and turned to Derek.

“Oh wait weren’t you gonna say something before?”

Derek considered telling Stiles what he was worried about but Isaac was right in front of them and he hadn’t thought it through before. Maybe he was just better of ignoring the problem for a while so he just said, “It wasn’t anything important. Let’s get going.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They visited a backstreet hardware store and spent almost the entire time in the gun section at the back listening to Isaac get excited over everything they had in stock. What Derek noticed though was that Stiles seemed to be more amiable, first trying to include Derek in the discussion with Isaac, then suggesting that the two of them go wander around the store. Isaac was busy talking to the salesman about ammunition and other gun accessories and the other two  were only really there to help carry everything out. Derek had agreed and when Stiles spotted the movies section he started going off about the latest Marvel film and all the easter eggs.

It was like he’d flipped a switch and Derek would have been relieved if it wasn’t strange that Stiles had changed his attitude so quickly. His confusion must have shown on his face because a moment later Stiles had stopped his rant about why Watchmen was the best comic ever to look at Derek pensively.

“Hey you alright man?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows creasing with concern.

Derek recognised the expression from the previous night. Stiles was so open when he cared about something and maybe it was that expression that made Derek trust himself enough to reply.

“Yeah I’m alright just… wondering. We’re okay right?” He asked hesitantly.

“What do you mean? Of course we are,” Stiles said giving him a confused look. 

Derek thought it sounded a little forced, like he was struggling with something and didn’t know how to say it. So Derek tried clarifying.

“I mean about last night about… what I said you know and… what I did.” Derek said, pushing through the guilt and self doubt because he had to know what Stiles was thinking.

The other man’s eyes softened and Derek felt immediate relief that he hadn’t been met with disgust at what he was.

“Derek, what you did I-” Stiles paused and seemed conflicted but then locked eyes with Derek, took a step closer and spoke more confidently.

“I get it. We’ve all done shit we’re not proud of for things we thought we're worth it. You did what was right by what you know.”

Derek heard the sincerity in every word and just knowing that someone else understood what he was trying to do meant everything. He let himself fall into the man’s kind eyes and smiled not knowing what to say.

Stiles looked away a moment later though and said, “I’d just hope if I had to make a decision like that you could understand.” It seemed like there was so much else he wanted to say and he still wouldn’t look at Derek.

“Of course I would understand Stiles.” He responded immediately, his heart warming as Stiles gave him sad smile.

Derek wondered how such a young face could hold such old and tired looking eyes. He wanted to spend hours trying to unravel the parts of Stiles that he was keeping hidden and ask him about it all but it didn’t seem like the time. So he just watched Stiles who seemed to be coming out of whatever dark thoughts he’d been immersed in.

“Thanks Derek,” Stiles said a little bashfully and finally looked up. “We both do what we have to just ... promise you’ll be a bit more careful next time?”

Derek wondered if he was blushing but just nodded his head, jokingly crossing his heart.

And just like that everything was okay. Derek couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that comfortable around someone. Or even that comfortable in his own skin. He’d spent so much time hiding who and what he was even from the family that he did it for that being honest and accepted was a foreign concept.

He revelled in the feeling as the two of them packed up the supplies that Isaac had picked out and carried them back to the car while chatting . Somewhere between listening to Stiles list the merits of Han Solo vs Indiana Jones and Isaac’s playlist of Imagine Dragons and Bastille on the way back to the warehouse Derek felt like he was at home.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much longer chapter this week yay! Got some action, some angst and a lil bit of sexual tension ;)
> 
> End notes for TW detail
> 
> PS I haven't edited as much as I'd like so apologies for any mistakes I'll fix them as soon as I can <3

 

Stiles hadn’t seen Derek since the previous day when they went to the hardware store together with Isaac. He knew that was probably because Derek had been spending a lot of time resting under his advice or in Peter’s office discussing who knows what.

The listening devices Stiles had planted in most other areas seemed to be working perfectly and even the one he had on the mysterious woman in the hotel from the other day was still transmitting. Peter’s office on the other hand must have had some sort of jammer that was disrupting the functionality and Stiles couldn’t afford to disable it without arising suspicion.

Lydia had been annoyed when they’d spoken the previous night and anxious for some new intel especially since Stiles had ‘an in with Peter’s right hand man now’ as she put it. All he’d been able to give her were reports on everyone’s regular movements and Derek’s  improving physical state. The wounds would probably leave faint scars but Derek seemed like he would be back in fighting form soon if he listened to Stiles and got some rest.

Stiles himself was restless and couldn’t stop thinking about how Derek had looked at him when he’d asked what Stiles thought of him. He still didn’t want to believe that Derek was a killer because of how innocent and desperate he had seemed in that moment. And when Stiles had honestly said he understood it had felt like everything else fell away and it had just been the two of them. Everything had been right for a moment.

Then he remembered that what Derek knew of him was all fake. For Stiles this was supposed to be a mission and every other word out of his mouth hid his true identity. He’d said as much as he could have but couldn’t help but feel powerless again not being able to tell Derek what he was really worried about and return the trust he had been given. It all felt wrong. like he was twisting and deforming something within himself and would never be able to fix it. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen after everything ran its course and Derek found out. If they all even survived that long.

Stiles may not have been able to hear what was going on in Peter’s office but he could guess that it wasn’t good. Of course he could have asked Derek what was happening and probably should have, given his orders. He couldn’t bring himself to though with the guilt of what he was doing to Derek and the others weighing heavily on him.

He knew it was his job, knew the intel he could provide would be invaluable to war on crime in the city but he just couldn’t do it. Despite Stiles’ high level of skill and training in his field there was nothing that could have prepared him for having to manipulate someone who he felt such a connection to. There was their history to consider of course but Stiles felt like it was more than that and knew Derek must have seen it too. The bottom line was that those feelings were distracting him and making it difficult to do what he had to.

Part of him thought that holding back emotions would be enough to get through the rest of the mission. That’s what he’d been trying to do before Derek had spoken to him at the hardware store. He’d tried to ignore what being around Derek felt like. Ignored his own guilt and tried to focus on doing what he had to, then realised he must have seemed distant. He’d tried changing tact by inviting Derek to join him and Isaac on a supply run but Derek must have noticed his sudden change.

It was like he couldn’t keep anything hidden from Derek for long not even his own lingering discomfort and didn’t know if he could have faced Derek again after that conversation at the store. So he spent the day working with Isaac in the warehouse armoury sorting through what they’d bought the other day. Keeping his hands busy helped a little and in between navigating Isaac’s detailed shelving system and doing inventory, Stiles worked on getting more information from Isaac by making idle conversation. Isaac was trusting and talkative and it was easy to get him to tell Stiles about the woman Erica had met, Silver. An interesting character to be sure and not one Stiles had anticipated but didn’t seem like she was of much consequence.

It felt good to get intel that way and let Stiles feel like he might be able to complete the mission after all. He went nearly the whole day without seeing Derek once and was honestly relieved because being around the other man made him feel like he really was the criminal he was pretending to be. Worse, he almost didn’t want that to change, didn’t want the illusion to be shattered. For a while he’d thought that was just for Derek but the truth was he wanted it for himself just as much. He wanted to be someone that Derek could look at like he he had over the last few days with absolute trust and be someone who he could come to in the middle of the night when he was hurt.

He had to talk to Derek about what happened with Peter though and, otherwise Lydia would have his head. He’d tried to rationalise why their longer conversations didn’t mean anything but he couldn’t do it. There was probably some valuable information available to him from that conversation and he had no other way to get it without talking to Derek. He’d spent an hour tinkering with his listening devices and trying to figure out if he might be able to bypass the jamming signal in Peter’s office but it was no use. He had to talk to Derek.

Naturally after coming to that realisation he agonised over how best to approach Derek. Normally his experience and recon helped him know how to handle targets but that day he couldn’t figure it out and nearly talked himself out of it a half dozen times. In the end, Derek came to him.

Stiles was about to leave the warehouse for the evening, he’d had dinner with a few of the others since Isaac had pulled out all the stops to cook them some incredible lasagne. It was supposed to have been a get well soon sort of thing for Boyd and Derek but Peter and Derek were still in the office and showed no signs coming out so they went ahead without them.

Later Stiles was in the garage about to start up the motorcycle he’d been using over the past few days when he heard the rusted side door creak and turned to see Derek enter. Stiles was about to say something, maybe even just ask what Derek and Peter had been discussing but the look in Derek’s eyes stopped him.

Stiles waited as Derek approached wordlessly, eyes unseeing but locked on Stiles like he knew he had to get to him but wasn’t sure about what to do after that. Once he was standing in front of Stiles he seemed to remember that he was supposed to say something.

“Umm hey… Isaac told me you were about to leave I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh yeah sure…” Stiles said and waited for the other shoe to drop because Derek looked haunted and after another moment’s pause he couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong?”

Derek’s glazed over eyes lit up for a second and he seemed almost embarrassed, as if caught. He shook his head as if to deny that anything was out of place but Stiles recognised the crease in Derek’s forehead and the look on his face like he was about to overload from thinking of something too much. Stiles wasn’t sure if it was his training or his history with Derek that helped him recognise that but he gave the other man a sympathetic smile and tried to get him to say something.

“What is it?” Stiles asked again and was unable to stop himself from worrying and wanting to do anything to help Derek.

There was another moment’s pause as Derek looked away and seemed conflicted. Stiles thought he might have even been checking to see if there was anyone else around before he turned back and took a step closer.

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this,” Derek began, his words coming out rushed and urgent, “but I couldn’t just let it happen Stiles listen Peter’s planning an attack.”

“What?” Stiles was immediately on guard and worried.

“On one of Deucalion’s people. That’s not what matters I mean it matters but that’s not what I came here to say. Stiles... Peter wants you to be there, thinks you should be with us when we go to take Kali down but I don’t and-” Derek’s eyes were pleading and his voice was thick with fear as he closed the distance between the two of them and put a hand on Stiles’ arm.

The contact was warm and calming. Stiles felt like the air between them was charged with electricity and his breath caught in his throat. He was aware he should be worried about what Derek was saying but it was like his whole brain had short circuited. All he could think was how close Derek’s face was, tilted slightly down towards his own and how even though they’d been close before, this was the first time Derek had touched him without having to.

“I tried talking him out of it but he won’t listen to me,” Derek continued a moment later bringing Stiles’ focus back, “Says you can hold your own and we might need you but he doesn’t understand what Kali is like she’s… we have a plan but she’s unpredictable, I don’t know what she could do and I can’t-” His stopped short again and his eyes filled with worry.

Stiles could only imagine what that must have been like for Derek, his own mind was reeling with what this all meant. Derek was telling him that Peter was about to start the war. What had happened to Boyd and Erica no doubt had been the catalyst but that had been an isolated attack on minor thugs, this was Kali they were talking about. Stiles knew her from the files on Deucalion as being his right hand.

The technicalities of the escalating feud though went over his head though when Stiles realised that Derek would be expected to be on the front line of the attack. Stiles’ emotions bubbled up then and his anger blinded everything.

“Derek I can’t just stand by and do nothing,” Stiles snapped, “Peter’s right you might all need me and-”

“No.” He cut in firmly but then softened, “Stiles please I can’t protect you if something goes wrong.”

Derek’s concern for him made Stiles’ heart sing but he bristled at Derek’s need to keep him out of danger without showing any concern for himself.

“I’m not asking you to protect me Derek,” he responded sharply, “I’m telling you that I should be there and I don’t see you backing out either. I know the risks as well as anyone else here and I-”

“You don’t know what Peter is doing Stiles!” Derek cried, getting desperate. He backed away a step and his hands fell to his sides and clenched into fists.  “You don’t know what he’s like, I’m trying to stop him from getting to you.”

“Derek…” Stiles was taken aback and watched Derek retreat into himself like nothing he’d ever seen before. It made his chest ache. He wanted to tell Derek that of course he would do whatever he needed to feel okay but that wasn’t going to happen. “Derek I can’t let you go in there by yourself. I don’t care who else they’re sending, I’m coming with you.”

Derek looked pained and turned his head away but Stiles stepped forward and took his hands in his own. Derek didn’t move, didn’t pull away or speak, just let Stiles hold his cold hands in his own. Stiles might have imagined it but he saw the other man breath out a sigh as if calming down a little after his outburst.

Stiles knew that they had gotten loud and were standing too close together, breathing the same air but he didn’t feel the need to do anything to change that.

“You say you want to protect me Derek,” Stiles said lightly after they’d been standing like that for a while, “I need to do that for you too. I don’t want to just sit here on my hands and wait for you to come back bloody again. This time I will be there to do something about it.”

Stiles was surprised by the rise of emotion and sincerity in his voice but had no way of stopping it.

“But what if-” Derek began.

“Shh, no,” Stiles stopped him, his voice soft and squeezed Derek’s hand, “Whatever happens we’ll deal with it okay but I am not going to let you face this alone.”

Derek gave him a look of fond disbelief but seemed to be warming to the idea of them doing this together. They stood together close together for some time and Stiles wasn’t really sure why but he liked being able to look at Derek that closely. He could see the tint of green in his dark eyes, the way his stubble framed his sharp jaw perfectly and the slight tautness in his shirt across his chest. Derek’s hands were still cold in his own but getting warmer and Stiles didn’t want to move at all but eventually Derek spoke.

“You were the only one I thought I might be able to get out of this you know,” He said, thumb idly stroking Stiles’ hand as he spoke, “Peter picked the people he wanted to go of course but I swear if I could keep you all from this I would.”

“You can’t protect us forever Derek, we need to protect each other.”

Derek smiled down at their hands then and muttered something that Stiles thought was “You sound like Laura,” and his heart skipped a beat at Derek mentioning his sister by name. He’d never done that before and only ever briefly mentioned the loss of his family. When he looked up, Stiles had no idea what to say and wasn’t even sure if Derek knew he’d said that out loud but a moment later he spoke.

“I guess you really are one of us now,” Derek said, huffing out a short laugh. “Stubborn as Boyd and tough as Erica. Neither of them would listen to me either when Peter first wanted them to go on dangerous assignments.”

Derek spoke wistfully like he would regret the past if it hadn’t given him people who he could trust as completely as he did with his new family. Stiles saw it all plainly on his face and wondered at the man who had lost so much but was still able to give his heart so freely.

“They care about you Derek, of course they want to take the same risks you do.”

There was a long pause before Derek asked, “Do you?”

Stiles froze and was suddenly aware of his hands held warmly in Derek’s and his mind went through what Derek was asking. He could just be talking about the risks but all Stiles could think about was how much he cared for Derek and honestly he didn’t know the answer to that himself. He knew he cared and that the thought of Derek in danger had made him want to jump into it with him but what did that mean?

Before he could figure it out though Derek was letting go of Stiles’ hands and backing away, looking at his feet.

“I’m sorry,” he said hastily, “you don’t have to answer that just- I’ll umm, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”

“Yeah…” Stiles said vacantly, not knowing what else to as he saw Derek retreat out of the garage. What could he do?

Derek seemed happy to leave it at that but then he stopped with the door half open, about to step out and turned back to Stiles who had moved to sit on the motorcycle. Derek looked like he thought for a moment before making himself speak.

“Thanks Stiles, really,” he said.

Stiles just nodded and said, “Anytime.”

Derek left then and Stiles didn’t move, his mind going over Derek’s words again and again. His mind unable to deal with the faith the other man had in him. Stiles’ feelings may be genuine but he had been completely blinded by them in that conversation, unable to remember that his actions were not his own. But maybe Derek would understand that Stiles had a job to do, same as him.

That job came rushing back to Stiles all at once and he wanted to kick himself for having forgotten it while Derek was there. He’d had that effect on Stiles recently. He whipped on his helmet and gunned the engine then, rushing back to the apartment and hoped against hope that he might be able to salvage the situation.

Once he was in his room he splashed water on his face before heading out to the balcony and dialling Lydia. It was at least an hour before their usual check in time but this couldn’t wait. The agency needed to know the Peter Hale’s people were about to make their first big move and Stiles had the information likely before anyone else besides Derek and Peter. It stung that he’d gotten this information courtesy of Derek’s misplaced trust in him but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

What mattered though was this might just be enough for the agency to call an end to his mission and arrest all of the big players. He wasn’t sure exactly how that would work but Stiles was giddy with the prospect that he might not have to lie anymore. A big part of him was petty and didn’t want to let go of the friends that he had made but he wasn’t delusional. The lie had to end and being as attached to the mission as he was he knew he wouldn’t be safe for much longer. Especially if him volunteering to go on a dangerous mission on a moment’s notice was any indication.

Stiles knew was getting out of hand. He just had to end this before anything more happened and hope that he could salvage things with Derek later. Maybe even get him a reduced sentence if he co-operated.

When Lydia finally picked up, Stiles had to physically stop himself from blurting everything out immediately.

“A little early aren’t we Stiles?” She said in place of a greeting.

“A bit yeah but that’s besides the point. You were right Lydia,” and Stiles could almost hear her perk up at the praise that was well earned, “Derek confided in me and I’ve got some interesting information for you.”

He explained the situation as briefly as possible, eager to move on and of course not interested in going into the details. He was paranoid that Lydia might realise how close he and Derek had gotten and how he might jeopardise the mission.

“Well I hate to say I told you so Stiles,” she gloated, almost laughing, “but yeah I should probably take this to the higher ups.

“Yep you do that,” Stiles added impatiently.

He could hear Lydia put him on hold and knew she was walking over to Deaton and Argents’ office. It was an unusual leadership system they had at the agency with two directors but it was a system that worked since the two of them handled very different aspects. Deaton dealt with the more day to day running and understood each agent on a personal level having mentored many of them. Chris Argent on the other hand made the big decisions and had inherited the position from his late father who had nearly run the place into the ground if the rumours of corruption were true. All the files were redacted of course but with Lydia and Danny’s combined powers of hacking and curiosity they had come up with enough to at least confirm some of the awful stories about Gerard Argent.

His son had lifted the Agency from the ashes of what it had been, raising it to the global power it was with his wife as the top field operative in the past, having given her life in the line of duty from what little Stiles had heard. It was fitting that Allison had taken her mother’s place and proven herself. Deaton’s altruism and Argent’s dedication served the agency well and Stiles was proud to be working for them. He only hoped they would understand.

“We’re all here Stiles,” Lydia chirped when she’d presumably set up the call in the Directors’ office, “you’re on speaker.”

“I’m here too!” Called Scott, who seemed to have pushed his way forward and to the mic.

Stiles chuckled and thought he heard Deaton sighing.

“Scott’s here too,” Lydia added, sounding exasperated.

“Hey Scott,” Stiles said, trying not to laugh, “good to hear your voice buddy. How they treating you?”

“Well enough, I’m bored out of my mind though without you and Allison around. Would it be too much for you to call or text every once in awhile?”

Lydia groaned, “He’s been like this all week Stilinski. I’m plotting murder.”

Stiles heard Scott squawk indignantly on the other end of the line and snorted. It was so good to hear their voices.

“That’s enough of that,” Christ cut in, “Now Agent Stilinski I understand you have some urgent intel for us?”

Stiles cleared his throat and snapped himself back into focus, “That’s right sir. I have been informed by Derek Hale that his uncle Peter is planning to instigate an attack on Deucalion’s second in command Kali.”

Stiles paused to let that sink in and heard Deaton hum in thought.

A moment later he continued, “I do not have a location or time yet sir but I think it would be a good move to shut this down before it starts.”

“Agent?” Chris questioned him, confused.

“I’m suggesting we arrest the culprits now. It might be a risk but I can’t see why we should let the feud escalate.”

“Stiles are you serious?” Lydia’s voice comes crackling through the phone.

“I think what Agent Martin is trying to say,” Deaton’s voice comes low and even, “is that we have a greater opportunity for intelligence from the Hales than we’ve ever had. It’s no secret that Peter Hale is a slippery one and if we act now it is very likely we will lose him.”

“Even if we do catch him,” Chris chipped in cynically, “anything short of airtight documentation and recorder evidence will convince a jury to even convict him, especially in this town.”

Lydia spoke up then, “Speaking of recordings, there’s apparently a jamming signal in Peter’s office sir. I’m not getting any of the transmissions from the devices Stiles planted in there.”

“Hmm Agent McCall, go see what Danny can do about that would you?” Deaton asked.

“Yessir,” Scott responded, “See you Stiles. And good luck!”

Before he could reply Scott was gone and Director Argent was speaking again.

“You up for it then Stilinski? You’ve done well with Peter’s people so far, getting close to his own nephew. Going on this attack with them will only improve your standing and likely open up great avenues for us to eradicate crime in this city especially with Allison already handling the other threat. We’ll let her know of the impending attack but she’d been closer to Deucalion than Kali so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Deaton continued on from that and said “Of course we’ll be monitoring your tracker and life signs if we need to step in at any point but it seems like this is more of an intimidation scheme, no one should be too badly hurt.”

Stiles couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They wanted him to go back. He had been so ready to stop the charade, so ready to let go of the unending guilt he felt for lying to everyone around him. But it seemed like he would have to keep up the lie for god knew how much longer. And he knew he would do it, if only to protect the people he cared about.

He heard himself agreeing to their decision and being congratulated on his work. He felt a bitter aftertaste in his mouth for being congratulated on a mission he may well ruin with his own stubbornness and emotion. He’d already stumbled so many times.

“Agent Martin please brief Stilinski on the assailants he will likely be going up against,” Chris was saying, “If you can give him an edge all the better for his standing in Peter Hale’s eyes.”

“Yes sir,” she replied curtly.

In the moment’s pause when Lydia returned to her office his thoughts ran rampant. He felt the urge again to tell someone what he was thinking but he couldn’t afford that. He couldn’t admit that he might compromise the mission either, couldn’t let Lydia or Scott or any of the others know how far gone he was. It was shame for how he had broken their rules and the fear of being discovered but it wasn’t just for them. He didn’t want to be taken off the mission.

He couldn’t let go of the hope that Derek might recognise him. That the Derek he knew was still there somewhere in the dozens of moments that Stiles had seen him. They were more than trainees together, they had been friends and if the fire hadn’t happened maybe Derek would have even come to work with the rest of them at the Agency.

None of that mattered anymore though. Too much had changed for both of them. Stiles just hoped that something of the friendship they’d had so long ago and what they had regained over the last few weeks could be salvaged. He clung to that hope but knew it wasn’t enough. He needed the Agency, it was where he belonged. Where his own family were and he had to honour them and the codes that he’d sworn to when he took on his role as a field agent. He knew what he had to do.

“Stiles you ready?” Lydia said, interrupting his train of thought as she got back to her office.

He made a small sound of assent and forced himself to switch off the part of him that was overthinking everything and focus on the work.

Lydia and him went through all the intel they had on Deucalion’s people, Kali and her goons in particular. Danny showed up later and let him know the drop off point for the updated listening devices for Peter’s office that he’d work on and send in a few days. After that was over Lydia reminded him of Silver and asked if he'd made any progress with that part of the investigation.

“Oh yeah I asked around a bit and seems like she’s the local arms dealer and the Hales do business with her pretty regularly. Isaac was happy to oblige us with that information at least.”

“And your winning personality strikes again Stiles!” Lydia commented jokingly but it struck a chord.

Stiles couldn’t remember when his skills in persuasion and information extraction had ever bothered him but this assignment was starting to really get to him. He just hoped they would call him in soon if he revealed something big enough especially with hard evidence against Peter if Danny’s new bugs worked out. So far the man had barely been seen or heard and gathering intelligence on him was like trying to bottle smoke.

“So what else you got on Silver?” Lydia asked, snapping Stiles out of that train of thought.

He was distracted but because of his training he caught the note of urgency in her voice. He wasn’t sure what to do with it but knew not to keep her waiting so updated her on the patterns of Silver’s movement’s as far as he understood them from what he’d asked Isaac. She visited every other month, normally to restock them with ammunition or talk with Peter on matters that no one really knew much about and didn’t question. The large shipments of weapons like the ones they’d just had were rare and if the visit to the store the previous day was any indication it seemed like they were preparing for something big. Bigger than what was happening with the attack on Kali that was for sure.

Silver’s involvement with all of that though seemed minimal. Stiles said as much but Lydia was listening attentively as if waiting for something and that put Stiles off even more because he was so used to interruptions.

Finally he couldn’t hold his curiosity back and asked, “What is it Lydia?

“Hmm?” She hummed innocently.

“You know something, I can hear your brain ticking away. What is it?” He asked getting impatient.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Lydia.”

“It’ll just distract you.”

Stiles wanted to laugh bitterly at that, he had plenty of distractions already but this was Lydia so he said, “It’s clearly distracting you so come on. Maybe talking about it will help?”

She huffed, “You’re awful at this Stilinski.”

“I know,” he replied fondly. He’d never been good at subtlety when it came to those he was close to.

“Fine then if you really want to know,” She said flippantly but Stiles could tell she was at least a little relieved to be sharing whatever it was that was bothering her as she continued. “I found out some more on Silver and I think she used to be involved with Deucalion’s crew. Allison gave me a lot of the same intel you did and was particularly interested when you managed to plant the bug.”

“What she worked with Deucalion?” Stiles was concerned that, if Silver was playing both sides in this war it could be a problem.

“It doesn’t seem like she’s working with him anymore, her ties to the Hales is more concrete. That’s not the worst part though. I dug through every agency’s database including a few we’re not supposed to have access to. I sifted through a dozen fake accounts and aliases but I finally found her real identity and I rechecked the dna from as many crime sites as I could find just to make sure but Stiles... her name is Kate Argent.”

“Wait,” Stiles’ mind was reeling, “ _Argent?_ As in Director Argent? As in Allison Argent?”

“Yeah…”

“Lydia what the hell??”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line and Stiles knew Lydia must have been rubbing her eyes and trying to figure out the best way to explain.

“I think Allison went undercover to find Kate. She kept asking me to look into Silver and her activities… I guess I just found out too much of what Allison already knew. She had an aunt by the name of Kate Argent who went off the grid shortly before Silver showed up on interpol’s radar. That must be her.”

Lydia was terrified and Stiles had no clue what to do about this. Allison was undercover in the wrong mob if she wanted to get at Kate but on the other hand maybe she was safer there. They had no clue what Kate would do if she saw Allison, didn’t even know what their relationship would be like after all this time.

It was after a long pause that Lydia spoke in a softer voice, full of worry, “I haven’t told her what I’ve found yet and I don’t know how to.”

“Does Scott know?” Stiles heard himself saying.

“God no, he’d pull the plug on the whole mission and we’d never live it down.”

Stiles nodded, now he was supposed to protect the secret of a friend that was emotionally compromised on her own mission. He was scared for Allison but he understood her position completely and the irony was not lost on him.

Still he had to try and said, “Maybe they should just pull the plug though Lyds?”

“Don’t you think I’ve thought of that?” Lydia snapped, “No, I’m her best friend, I’m supposed to trust that she can handle this. She kept the truth from me for a reason and trust me she’s gonna get an earful about that but whatever she’s doing this for has gotta be worth all this.”

“I guess there’s not much we can do about it then just… talk to Allison when you can yeah? It’ll be good for her to know that there’s someone who supports her after she’s been trying to do this on her own.” Stiles said, resolutely not thinking about how that applied to his situation as well. It didn’t matter.

A part of him felt like he might have been able to open up to Lydia then and there, tell her about his past with Derek and how close they’d really grown recently but all the reasons he couldn’t crashed down on him and he clamped up.

“Oh hey I nearly forgot,” Lydia said, “Allison gathered some intel that might be relevant to you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah apparently Daeler’s murder caused quite a few ripples over on her side.”

Stiles shuddered at the mention of that and flashed back to the night of the killing vividly before listening to Lydia continue.

“Turns out the ADA was recently put on Deucalion’s payroll and was a pretty big move on his part to start taking control of the city. Particularly since Hale previously had dominance over the District Attorney’s office.”

Stiles hummed thoughtfully, “Moves and countermoves…”

“Yeah looks like the Alpha is taking out traitors to the cause or something like that. If things continue the way they are between Deucalion and Hale then we’ll probably see a spike in kills like we did a month ago when tensions started getting bad. Though of course here’s hoping we manage to sort out this mess before that happens.”

“Cheers to that,” Stiles said and meant it more than she could know. He would do whatever it took to stop Derek from having to kill like that again.

“Alright Stiles get going,” Lydia said and he could feel her maternal instincts kicking in, “There’s a lot of work still to be done before Director Argent lets you come back in.”

“Yessir,” he muttered before he hung up and made his way inside.

Stiles had too much to think about after that call and was amazed when he managed to shut down his brain long enough to get a few hours of sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day he forced himself not think about any of it. Not Silver or the Alpha or Allison or the impending attack. None of that would help him and he went through the day in a state of practiced calm, focusing all his energies on the menial tasks Isaac gave him. He didn’t see Derek and wondered briefly if the other man was avoiding him but that was ridiculous. Stiles was just being paranoid and the fact that he missed Derek after having seen him just the previous night was one of the many reasons he spent half his energy shutting his mind off from anything that might distract him.

Late in the evening Peter finally called the meeting that Stiles had been anticipating. Several others he’d seen over the last couple of weeks in passing all assembled in the open space of the warehouse where Stiles had fought Erica on his first day.

The atmosphere was charged, no one really knew what was going to happen but they all had a pretty good idea of the direction. Everyone knew that the stalemate they had with Deucalion’s forces wouldn’t last and some like Erica was ready and raring to go. Finally Peter appeared on the walkway above them all with Derek by his side. It was a little over the top with Peter on a literal raised platform but Stiles had come to expect nothing less from the man.

Peter began with a rousing speech about the strength of them as a unit and some of their accomplishments and then skilfully brought in Deucalion and his people that had become a threat to what they had and what he was building. At that point the atmosphere changed from enraptured listeners loud jeering against Deucalion and calling out all the times he cut off their supplies or infringed on their territory. They all demanded action and Peter just smiled.

Stiles had seen this a million times, a charismatic leader making their followers believe every word out of their mouths and believe it was what was best for them all. Peter had them wrapped around his finger and they were happily following along. Stiles tried to find comfort but looking up at Derek and gave him a sympathetic look. They both knew what was happening. Erica and a few of the others probably knew too but she had her own reasons to want to go through with everything as did they.

A minute later and Peter revealed his grand plan for retaliation and promised that it would only be the beginning. He was met with loud cheers and Stiles resolved himself to join in to keep up appearances. Derek clapped politely and kept eye contact with Stiles as they silently drew strength from one another.

Peter was in his element, positively preening from the attention and praise he was receiving. It made Stiles’ skin crawl and anger rise in him for his manipulation of Derek and the others. That growing hatred was enough to motivate him for the job that would follow.

Eventually Peter announced the people who would be instigating the attack and Stiles was equally worried and relieved that the names were those of the people he’d managed to get the closest to while undercover.

When Erica was announced she just nodded to Peter and Derek having expected the opportunity to pay back Deucalion’s people for the attack on her and Boyd’s injury. She was the picture of determination and barely controlled bloodlust. Isaac and Jackson were next and both looked nervous but proud for the opportunity and enjoyed the attention from the handful of others that congratulated them on the assignment. Stiles emulated their reactions and displayed surprise and gratitude as would be expected of him.

Peter said that Boyd would have been coming with them but his injuries were still slowing him down so he would join them later. This was followed by more heckling of Deucalion’s actions and his people’s dishonourable attack on Erica and Boyd. During this Stiles looked back up at Derek thinking of the man’s own injuries. They weren’t nearly as severe and Stiles knew he was healed enough to not be hindered much but he couldn’t help but worry about adding to the pain that Derek was already in. There was little he could do though, him and Derek were going to see this through.

Peter called an end to the meeting then and everything moved quickly after that. The five of them made their way to the armoury at the back, wordlessly following Derek, and Isaac began to outfit them with what they would need.

Derek briefed them on all the details that Peter had left out including the location and layout of Italian restaurant they knew that Kali spent her most of her evenings conducting business in and the lackeys she normally had around her. Stiles already knew half of the intel from what Lydia had told him the previous night and was grateful for that because during the briefing he kept getting distracted by watching for lines of tension in Derek’s body. Stiles knew how much the mission must have grated on him, especially since he was close to everyone in the chosen group, even Jackson. But like Derek had said the other day, none of them were about to listen to him or back out so they continued preparations.

Stiles was surprised when Derek told them that they would be leaving almost immediately but it made sense that Peter wanted to act quickly and everyone was prepared within the hour. Isaac had given Stiles a handgun and he couldn’t help but feel how much they had all come to trust him if they were giving him a weapon. Stiles still remembered the same man along with the other two chasing him down and shooting at him not two weeks ago before bringing him in. It was a strange feeling but Stiles didn’t say anything, just took the gun and fit it in the shoulder holster he was also given. If the other’s noticed how comfortable he was with the weapon they didn’t comment. He supposed it was hard to discern the familiarity with weapons of law enforcement from that of the street smart criminal kid he was supposed to be.

Each of them also got a kevlar bulletproof vest that Isaac produced from a crate at the back of the store room that Stiles had never seen before. When he saw it he went on a short rant about how each of them should always be using those, how it would make his job much easier and gave a pointed look to Boyd and Derek. And if Stiles’ eyes lingered a second too long on Derek well that was his business.

They were all ready within the hour but spent another hour double checking everything and going over the plan in detail. The aim wasn’t to kill Kali or her goons apparently and Stiles could tell because otherwise Peter would have just sent Derek on his own. No, this was supposed to make a statement. They were going to head over there to show that Deucalion’s trespassing on Hale territory wasn’t going to stand.

Because of that the guns everyone carried were more of a precaution, Isaac also let them have access to the general weapons section since this would be a mission where things were going to get messy. Stiles blanched at the rack of blades and blunt weapons but managed to control his expression and reminded himself to stay focused.

Derek raised an eyebrow when Stiles picked a baseball bat but eventually just shrugged and went back to fiddling with his gun. They headed to the garage soon after that and Isaac drove them all in one of the SUVs over to the restaurant, which was in the older part of town. Everything in the area had been built in the 30s and was all red brick and concrete. They parked a block down and stepped out wordlessly making their way to the entrance. They all knew the plan.

The moon was high in the sky but it was cloudy out so most of the light came from the old yellow street lamps that lined the road. For a moment Stiles felt like he was in an old movie walking with a group of deadly people armed to the teeth, seeking revenge and he supposed for Erica that’s what it was. Stiles would laugh if they weren’t all about to risk their lives. They should be alright though, no one was supposed to get killed unless Kali’s people put up too much of a fight and they’d be out of there quickly.

The building was long and low, like a converted diner or speakeasy with an old sign above the door that read “Alessandra’s Restaurant and Bar.” The wide front windows were blocked by heavy velvet curtains from inside and Stiles didn’t like having to walk in blind but they didn’t really have a choice. Derek stationed Jackson at the door to keep watch and they finally headed inside.

The place was as old fashioned inside as it was out and Stiles thought it looked like something out of the Godfather. The place was mostly empty, the only occupied table being one at the back about fifteen feet from them near the bar. A couple had been sat at the table including a large bald man wearing an expensive looking suit who had stood the minute they’d entered and practically bared his teeth at them in hostility but said nothing. The other was a darker skinned woman in in a simple black dress who simply sat back and looked stunning, completely unperturbed by their entrance as she watched Derek step forward. Behind them stood two armed men but they seemed relaxed for the time being. Stiles was more interesting in the two at the table since he immediately recognised the woman as Kali but he had not been expecting the other, Ennis to be here. He was nearly as high ranked as she was and Stiles took a quick look around at Erica and Isaac and their expressions confirmed that they hadn’t expected this either.

If Derek was concerned though he didn’t show it and simply set his jaw and took another step forward. The tension was mounting and no one had reached for their guns yet or any other weapons though Stiles held his bat loosely at his side. They were all waiting for someone else to make the first move.

Finally Kali spoke. “Lovely to see you again Derek,” She said in a voice that was far too relaxed and finally stood.

“I can’t say the same of you,” Derek growled in response.

Kali laughed and Stiles felt the sound crawl under his skin. The woman was terrifying in her casual tone in a situation like this. She acted as if she held all the cards even though at the moment they seemed evenly matched, four against four and they had Jackson outside if they needed, making them five. But Stiles was worried.

“You’re not here to discuss peace then?” Kali asked mockingly.

Derek shook his head grimly and Stiles only wished things could be that simple.

“Well then I suppose we should get this over with?” She said briefly looking at Ennis.

He nodded and said, “Any minute now.”

Stiles could see Derek about to speak and wanted to know what the hell was going on but then Kali was continuing.

“But really, we were expecting you much earlier. The dealer we payed off told us about Petey’s little speech hours ago. You Hales are really losing your touch.”

Stiles’ blood ran cold and everyone in the room tensed. That’s when they heard Jackson call out from outside but the words were lost in the echoing sound of gunfire.

Stiles’s brain switched off and his instincts kicked in as he grabbed at Derek’s shirt and pulled him back to duck down behind a table just in time before the bullets started flying. The sounds were deafening, like they were coming from everywhere. He’d dropped the bat and had his gun out a second later, shooting back against Kali’s men. Derek was next to him, panting and clearly in shock but a moment later he had his gun out too and after pushing the table over on its side to give them a better shield, he started shooting.

Through the cacophony of bullets and shouts Stiles could hear Erica swear from where she and Isaac were ducked behind a table across from them, trying to hold their own against the attackers. The tables were splintering under the gunfire and when Stiles looked back to them he saw Isaac wince in pain as the side of the table warped and a shard of wood scratched across his arm. They wouldn’t last long.

The whole thing was an ambush and the reality of it crashed down on him hard. Stiles and Derek looked at each other then, a second before going back to shooting but it was enough. Both of them were thinking the same thing anyway. _We could die here._

Then things got worse. The front door they’d entered through opened again and Stiles turned in time to see a man and woman enter before they started shooting. Stiles remembered the shots they’d heard outside just before everything went to hell and figured there had been more of Kali’s people that Jackson hadn’t been able to hold them off.

This had been her plan all along, Stiles realised. To corner them in the restaurant and attack them from both sides. He was enraged through his adrenaline and fear and managed to turn in time to shoot one of them. He was a great shot but he couldn’t bring himself to kill anyone if he didn’t have to and his bullet connected with the woman’s leg, taking her down. Erica and Derek managed to take down the other man but Isaac was fiddling with some small device and Stiles almost wanted to scream at him that this wasn’t the time for tinkering.

Then Isaac was running forward and throwing the device at Kali’s table while Erica turned to shoot back at Kali’s men to cover him. It was only a moment before Isaac darting back behind the cover of the table and Stiles was thoroughly confused.

“GET DOWN!” Isaac cried out.

Derek grabbed Stiles’ arm and pulled him down before he could question it and shielded Stiles’ body with his own. Barely a second later and Stiles heard the most deafening sound and felt a blast of heat and force like nothing he’d ever experienced that would have sent them to the ground had they not already been crouched low. Somewhere Stiles had realised that that was a bomb and could hear the crackling of the fire that had started but he was too dazed to think anything beyond that. His ears were ringing and everything around him was spinning.

He could see Derek’s face in front of him and felt the man helping him to his feet and shouting something about getting out but everything was muffled and slowed down. Eventually though things started to come into focus and he found that Derek had led him outside and he saw the other two following.

Erica had blood trickling down her face and Isaac was cradling his left arm. Then Stiles saw Jackson.

He’d propped himself up against the outside wall of the restaurant, his legs stretched out in front of him and the left leg was covered in blood. Stiles could see through the ripped jeans and grimaced at the bullet hole that was still bleeding. It was a wonder that the two people that had been outside had left him alive but it looked like he’d dropped his gun and probably wasn’t much of a threat after that.

Erica and Isaac moved quickly to help him up and Stiles moved closer to try and get a better look at the wound. They’d barely gotten Jackson to his feet though before they heard running footsteps coming towards them and Erica swore again loudly.

They all tried to make a run for the car but moving Jackson slowed them down and and Stiles felt the bullet that whiz past his head about the same time as the shot. He whirled around and raised his gun to see Ennis and another men from inside the restaurant chasing them. They must have gotten out the back before the bomb went off.

Stiles’ heart seized up and he didn’t know what to do. It would have been self defence but turned out he didn’t need to do anything because before those two could even get off another shot, Stiles saw them taken down by bullets to the chest and turned to see Erica and Derek with their guns raised.

Both of them had grim looks on their faces and Stiles’ ears started ringing again from the shots. He looked back at the bodies slumped on the ground and something snapped inside him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one was supposed to have died and why hadn't he been able to stop it?

“Stiles come on,” Derek said urgently and stepped up next to him, putting a hand on his arm.

It was like Stiles couldn’t hear it though. Like he didn’t even feel the familiar gesture that mirrored the one from only a day before. Stiles knew they had to get out of there but all he could do was stand frozen there, staring at the two bodies that had been shot and think about the explosion. He could still feel the heat of the from the restaurant that was going up in flames.

His mind was overloading and he didn’t know how to deal with it all but his eyes still caught the movement on one of the bodies that was supposed to be dead. It was Ennis and nobody else was looking so Stiles wasn’t even sure if it was real. But Ennis was moving, his face a mask of pain but determined and he reached for his gun but he wasn’t pointing it at Stiles; he was turning it to Derek. Stiles didn’t think, he just reacted.

“LOOK OUT!” He screamed as he turned to push Derek out of the way.

He had just enough time to see the look of shock on Derek’s face before pain exploded in his side and the force of the shot knocked him down. His head cracked against the pavement and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: Blood, gun violence, explosion/fire, pain, death of minor characters (just some goons) -life threatening fight for pretty much everyone
> 
> Also thanks so much for the kudos and comments so far it means a lot <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Derek, Stiles and the rest of the squad/pack went to a restaurant to confront Kali but it was a trap! They fought and nearly got away but Ennis survived the blast and aimed to shoot Derek but Stiles jumped in front of the bullet.
> 
> Brace yourselves folks.
> 
> (End notes for Trigger Warnings)

Derek had just enough time to register Stiles pushing him aside before he heard the shot. His mind had already been reeling from the fight and the explosion but when he heard Stiles cry out and fall to the floor he lost it.

Everything in his mind went haywire and he fell to his knees at Stiles’ side fervently checking for injuries and praying endlessly; _please don’t be dead please don’t be dead please don’t be dead._ But Stiles’ eyes were closed and Derek feared the worst.

“Stiles,” He found himself choking out in a voice dripping with desperation, “Stiles please wake up.”

But he didn’t even stir.

Why had Stiles insisted on coming? Derek hated himself for not having pushed harder for Stiles to stay home and having let this happen. It was his fault. He’d gotten another person involved in his mess of a life and gotten them killed and it was his fault.

He heard another shot and thought Erica must have finished off Ennis but all he could do was look at the bullet hole in Stiles’ hoodie. It was on his side and Derek wanted to scream but then he noticed that there was no blood. A crack of hope appeared in the soul crushing despair that had enveloped him and he could scarcely let himself believe it.

With bated breath he leaned forward just enough to unzip the hoodie and reveal the kevlar vest Stiles was wearing under it and the bullet that had lodged in the side of the material. Derek nearly cried out from the relief when he saw that the bullet hadn’t gotten through.

Stiles was going to be okay. Then Derek looked back up and down Stiles’ body, taking a second to search for any signs that he might wake up and he saw the slow rise and fall of his chest but nothing else. Stiles’ face was a mask of serene sleep and Derek instead noticed a small pool of blood that was forming under his head. Panicked, Derek lifted Stiles gingerly into a sitting position with a hand behind his neck and back to get a clear look at the wound on the back of his head that was oozing blood and soaking through Stiles’ hair. It left Derek’s fingers sticky and he felt sick. He tried to bring himself under control because it wasn't nearly as bad as it looked but still Derek found himself thinking that this wasn't the way he wanted to hold Stiles.

Derek’s eyes lingered on his soft pink lips, the constellation of moles dotted across his cheeks and the gentle slope of his jaw. Derek thought he was beautiful and his heart skipped a beat at the realisation. He thought Stiles was beautiful and it was his fault the man was hurt. Derek shook his head as he felt despair creeping up again and tried to remind himself that Stiles had just been knocked out and would open his eyes any minute. And maybe Derek would tell him what he felt.

Then Erica was pulling at his arm and hissing, “Derek come on we have to go!”

He looked up at her, confused for a moment. It was like he’d forgotten that the others were even there and his eyes flitted up to Isaac supporting Jackson and around to look at the restaurant that was almost fully enveloped in flame. Images of his family flashed in his mind when he saw the fire and held back a sob. He knew he couldn’t afford to lose focus and looked back down at Stiles and leaned down to lift the other man in his arms.

Stiles may have been his height but he was leaner and Derek had spent enough time working out over the last few years to be able to handle it. His wounded shoulder protested at the strain though and he winced. Erica raised an eyebrow at him in question like she was offering to help but he just shook his head and ignored the pain.

They made it to the car a minute later and sped away, leaving the flaming restaurant and bodies behind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They were all exhausted by the time they got back to the warehouse but Jackson was bleeding out and Stiles still wouldn't wake up so they pushed themselves to action. Thankfully Boyd had been waiting up for Erica and helped them out. Isaac had only been clipped by a bullet but it was enough that he couldn't support Jackson’s weight anymore.

Derek himself was starting to see stars, his vision going blurry. He didn't even acknowledge it though and after he saw that Erica and Boyd had started to care for the other two he turned his attention entirely to Stiles who he’d laid down onto the couch with his head propped onto the arm.

He cleaned and bandaged the head wound as best he could and looked around at the others who were using what Stiles had taught them and felt for the first time that night, that things might be okay. Stiles didn’t wake up even after Derek had finished and everyone else looked ready to crash so most of them fell asleep on the couches around the living room. They ran out of space quickly once people started lying down though and Derek decided to carry Stiles up to his room.

He hated that the last time they’d shared a room was also because someone had gotten shot but was too sleepy to worry much more about it. He just settled Stiles onto the bed and tried to keep watch in a chair he pulled up to the bed. He wanted to be there when Stiles woke but didn’t last long after having carried the man to and from the car and then up the stairs. Derek fell asleep as soon as he was comfortably settled in the armchair.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When he woke again it was still dark and he heard the creaking of floorboards and metal. His eyes shot open and his hand went to the gun on the table but then he saw Erica and the rest of them looking half asleep and trying to pull out the couch bed he had on the opposite side of the room and arrange an extra mattress they’d found god knows where.

“Sorry!” Isaac whispered and looked apologetic when he noticed Derek had woken up and was giving them a death stare.

Erica just rolled her eyes and tossed Derek a blanket from the pile she was holding. It was her way of saying he knew the couch bed up here was better than the one downstairs and he wasn’t using it anyway. Plus it felt good to have everyone around and Derek wasn’t about to question it.

He fell back asleep soon after spreading the blanket out and curling back into a comfortable position. He slept like a log after that and only stirred once the sun was shining right in his eyes through the window across from where he was sitting.

The clock on the bedside table next to him told him it was 11:30am and he still felt drained from the previous night and his muscles burned. Everyone else was asleep in various states of undress around the room. Erica hadn’t been kidding the other day when Derek had been shirtless around them, they’d seen pretty much everything of each other over the last few years. Derek smiled when he noticed Isaac and Jackson sharing the mattress, lying very close together because of the limited space having clearly let the actual couple, Erica and Boyd, take the couch bed where they were asleep in each other’s arms.

Derek dozed for a few more minutes and pulled the blanket closer around himself. He watched Stiles as well though, letting his eyes linger on the young man’s slim frame that could be seen outlined below the thin sheet covering him. Derek was watching the slow rise and fall of Stiles’ chest and had started counting the moles on his face when Stiles finally started to wake up.

It happened slowly and at first Derek thought he had imagined it but eventually Stiles’ amber eyes were open and staring up at him, dazed and tired but Derek was just relieved he was up.

“Hey,” Derek whispered softly, not wanting to wake the others and leaned forward.

“Hey,” Stiles responded, his voice a little croaky and distant as he raised a hand to rub at his eyes and looked around. “Am I in you’re room?”

“Umm.. yeah,” Derek said shyly, “After last night we brought you back here to patch you up.

Stiles’ face was a mask of concentration before he gasped, “Holy crap, did I get shot?”

Derek let out a low laugh at that, “Yes you got shot.”

“Well shit. That explains why my side is burning but what the hell happened to my head?” He said as he shifted and raised his hand to cradle the side of his head.

“You fell after you got shot, got a nasty gash back there,” Derek said and looked away, unable to remove the feeling of guilt that rose when Stiles’ face had flashed with pain.

“Well that sucks,” Stiles said and tried to sit up.

Derek was about to stop him when he heard Erica’s voice across the room.

“Hey take it easy Stiles, you hit your head pretty bad...”

Evidently Derek had been too distracted to notice that most of the others were waking up. 

“What are you all doing here?” Stiles said questioningly once he’d managed to sit back against the headboard after some help from Derek.

Erica shrugged, “After last night we all needed some rest so-”

Isaac cut her off and said “We crashed here and were keeping watch!”

Derek didn’t remember anything like that but he supposed they could have decided on it when he had dozed off.

“What do you mean keeping watch? You were asleep,” Jackson pointed out.

“Hey the last shift was your watch,” Isaac countered.

“No it wasn’t it was your’s!”

“It can’t have been, I was asleep!”

“Alright idiots it’s not like it matters anymore,” Erica cut in thankfully and rolled her eyes expertly.

Boyd and her moved off the couch and stepped forward to the side of the bed opposite Derek and Erica crouched down to kiss Stiles on the cheek.

“You had us scared there for a bit there newbie,” She said softly, “glad to see you’re okay.”

The rest of them muttered similar words of joking relief, none of them going into the details of what had happened and Derek felt a rush of fondness for them all being there together. They were trying to act like everything was fine and they hadn’t nearly just lost one of their own. It even seemed like it was working.

Then Stiles was smiling and all thoughts went out of Derek’s head. It was a weird numb, pins and needles sort of feeling and he was aware of the rest of them talking around him about getting some breakfast or something but he missed half of it because Stiles had turned to face him with that smile.

“Derek?” Stiles said questioningly, like he was supposed to answer a question or something.

“Hmm?” He responded dumbly.

“Food, Derek!” Isaac chimed in.

Derek groaned, no one should be that chipper after they’d just woken up. “Sure, let’s go get some food.”

“Hear that guy’s! Derek’s gonna go get us all some food.” Isaac announced, sounding victorious.

“What? No I’m not getting you guys take out,” Derek cut in after he realised what he’d signed up for.

“Aw come on Der!” Isaac pleaded and even used his puppy eyes.

Derek was used to them by now though and stayed adamant, “No way, I’m too tired. We all are. Just grab something out of the fridge or make something, I don’t know.”

Isaac was pouting but said nothing else as he made his way out of the door listening to the others already calling out what they wanted him to make for breakfast. Derek watched as they filed out the door and was considering whether or not to follow them or take a shower when Stiles spoke.

“Hey Derek would you mind… staying for a bit? I wanted to ask you more about what happened. Last night I mean.”

“Oh. Umm sure. Not sure how much more I can tell you,” Derek said as he turned in his seat to face Stiles.

“That’s the thing, everything’s sort of fuzzy. I was just hoping you could clear it up. I remember the restaurant and Kali. I remember when everyone started shooting and everything getting hot really fast and flashes of other things but not much else.”

“Well you got the first part down, the heat you remember must be the bomb Isaac threw to get us out of there. It was enough of a distraction and pretty much set the whole place alight. After that we made it outside and a couple of Kali’s people were able to follow. We thought we’d taken care of it but you must have seen something we didn’t because you pushed me out of the way just before one of them managed to get off a shot that would have hit me.”

Stiles nodded slowly and Derek could see him trying to process the information but having to talk about what happened made the guilt rise in him all over again and he felt like he was drowning in it.

“Stiles I’m so sorry for what happened. That bullet was meant for me and now you can’t even remember last night. Who knows what else it could have-”

“Hey,” Stiles cut in but his voice was gentle, concerned. “None of that. I’m pretty sure I chose to take that bullet, it’s not your fault.”

“But you shouldn’t have even been there in the first place!” Derek argued, “I should have kept you out of there I-”

“Oh shut up,” Stiles snapped playfully and shook his head smiling.

Derek was startled by the smile, not sure what was funny in the situation and gave Stiles a puzzled look.

“You need to get it through your head Derek, I chose to go the restaurant with you. I chose to become a part of what’s happening here and it sure as hell was my decision to push you out of the way of that bullet. I wasn’t about to let you get shot for god’s sake and I know you would do the same for me.” Stiles words came out hurried, getting more and more emotional as he spoke and he seemed surprised that he’d said as much as he had but didn’t take any of it back.

Derek sat there more than a little awestruck at his words. “You’re right,” he found himself saying though after a pause. “I mean about it being your choice of course but also about me being willing to do the same.”

His words hung heavy in the air and Derek could see the look of surprise on Stiles’ face even though he was the one who’s first suggested it.

“No more talk of who saved who then alright? I’m pretty sure you saved me a couple times back there at the restaurant anyway,” Stiles chuckled, “we both do what we have to do right?”

Derek made a sound of assent and hummed thoughtfully. “Was there anything else you wanted to ask?”

“Uh that was it I think... if you wanted to get food or something you could do that now I guess,” Stiles said a little awkwardly.

Derek could relate, there wasn’t much you could say after that so he just replied with, “I was umm, gonna take a shower.”

Stiles just nodded and Derek nodded back, wracking his mind for something better to say. It took him until after he’d gotten himself a change of clothes and towel from the closet and had one foot in the bathroom door before he looked back up to the man across the room.

“Hey Stiles?” He asked softly but it was enough, “I’m.. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Stiles smiled right back and said, “I’m glad you’re okay too.”

Derek made his way to the shower then before he said something stupid. He spent a long time in there, letting the hot water ease his aching muscles and wipe away the memories of the previous night if only just for a moment. It was calming bliss and when he eventually stepped out of the cubicle and changed into more comfortable day clothes he felt rejuvenated.

When he made his way back out to the room he noticed Stiles near the window talking on the phone someone and he heard a bit of the conversation.

“-not even that bad. I’m fine Lydia honestly.” Stiles was saying.

Then Stiles noticed that Derek had come out of the bathroom and turned, looking a little guilty which was strange. It just made Derek suspicious of who the person on the other end could be, a girlfriend maybe? The thought made Derek feel a little panicked and he didn’t know why. Stiles was finishing the call though so maybe he would ask.

“Hey I’ll call you back later okay? … Yeah take care.” He said before hanging up and giving Derek an apologetic look. “Sorry about that, was a friend from upstate. She hadn't heard from me in a while and wanted to where I disappeared to. Don't worry I didn't tell her what's going on around here, no specifics anyway."

Stiles sounded a little defensive but Derek chalked that up to his own confrontational expression and just nodded. What Stiles said made perfect sense and he no had no reason to lie anyway. The mention of the previous night though had him feeling a little guilty again and he asked, "Did you tell her what happened to you?"

Stiles just smiled and said, “Yeah but I also I told her I'm in good hands.”

“Oh,” Derek stammered at Stiles’ pointed look at him and tried to think of some other topic. “You should really stay in bed and get some more rest, at least for a bit. You hungry?”

“Nah not really, maybe later. You?”

“Starving haha,” Derek admitted, running a hand through his hair, “probably just need my morning coffee though.”

“Then you should go get something,” Stiles insisted.

“Yeah,” Derek conceded. He didn’t really want to leave Stiles but it wasn’t like he was going anywhere so he just added, “I’ll send something up for you later though.”

“Sounds good.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Isaac was making scrambled eggs and everyone else was spread around on the couches watching Firefly reruns with the remaining dirty dishes from their breakfast covering the small coffee table in the centre. They still looked tired but in a lot better spirits than the previous night which was enough. Derek made his way over to the coffee machine as he usually did and muttered a good morning to everyone and got a few scattered good mornings in reply before Erica approached him.

“So how’s Stiles doing?” Erica asked as she joined Derek in the kitchen to pour herself some coffee.

“Better I think,” Derek hoped.

“I’m sure he is,” Boyd said with a reassuring smile from where he was sitting in the couch.

“Better after some time spent with you probably,” Isaac muttered but it was loud enough for everyone else to catch.

Jackson snickered and Boyd looked like he was holding back a laugh.

“What do you mean?” Derek asked, a little confused. What did being around Derek have anything to do with Stiles getting better? It wasn’t like he’d done anything fancy with the bandages and medicine that anyone else couldn’t have done.

“You seriously have no clue man?” Jackson demanded, sitting up and giving him an amused look.

“No?” said Derek, completely lost by that point.

Jackson and Isaac started laughing and Boyd just shook his head.

Erica sighed then, “Don’t mind them Derek. It’s just their childish way of saying they think you two are good for each other.”

“Huh?”

“Come on Derek,” She said rolling her eyes as if he was trying to hide something badly, “we all know you two have a _thing_ going.”

“A _thing?_ ”

“Jesus this is hard,” Erica huffed out, “listen Derek you are both into each other and we’re cool with it. Is that plain enough?”

“What.” Derek’s brain short circuited.

Jackson and Isaac burst into laughter again but Derek was too busy trying to process what Erica had said. That they liked _each other_. Derek wasn’t even sure of his own feelings and here was one of his closest friends telling him that not only had she known before he did, she knew what he’d been too afraid to think about. Whether or not Stiles returned his feelings.

“We’re not-” Derek tried to say, “We’re not together.”

Erica gave him an exasperated smile then. “Well you should get on that then Derek. I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that since… well since forever.”

“She’s right,” Boyd chimed in.

Derek thought Isaac and Jackson were making kissy faces at each other which should have surprised him given the two men’s violent natures and body counts but he’d seen enough to know this was just who they were. They had literally killed people and been shot at the previous night and Derek just shook his head.

“Whatever,” He said dismissively and made his way to one of the couches around the TV and settled in. He had a grand total of 15 minutes watching the show that was on and sipping his coffee before he was interrupted.

“Oh Derek I nearly forgot, you should probably go talk to Peter,” Erica said, turning to him.

“Yeah,” Isaac added a little warily, “I gave him an update this morning but you should see him yourself.”

“Hmm I will,” Derek said, realising he hadn’t even considered Peter all morning. The thought of his uncle made him angry suddenly, remembering that it was his order that had gotten them all ambushed and nearly killed. Derek had felt overwhelming guilt until Stiles had tried to talk him out of it but he was starting to realize that maybe Peter was more at fault.

So he finished up his coffee, asked Erica if she could take some food up to Stiles and get him to rest and made his way upstairs. He approached Peter’s office, ready to finally talk about what had happened the previous night and figure out how they were going to deal with it. Once he reached the door though, every moment of violence from the previous night flooded his mind and he felt a burning fury inside him. Peter had no right to risk all of their lives like he had.

So he opened the door roughly and practically charged inside. Peter was at his desk, writing in a ledger but looked up the moment Derek entered and if he didn’t know any better he’d say his uncle was startled.

“Ah Derek glad you’re here, I wanted to offer my congratulations on a job well done last night.” Peter said in a practiced level tone as he stood and stretched out his hand to shake.

“How can you say that went _well?_ ” Derek said incredulously and ignored Peter’s hand.

“Well you completed the task of intimidating our foes,” Peter said placatingly as he retracted his hand and sat back down, “albeit a little more explosively than expected but none of ours were too badly hurt. I’d call that a win.”

“Jackson can barely walk,” Derek spat, “And Stiles nearly _died.”_ He was fuming.

“Yes…” Peter said, drawing out the word and raised an eyebrow at Derek’s outburst, “but they understood the risks, as do we all. I thought you’d be proud, they were all very brave.”

“Yes they were,” Derek conceded, his mind flashing back to the way Stiles had thrown himself in front of the bullet like it was nothing. “They were waiting for us though, we barely made it out.”

“And I’m sorry about that but we had no way of knowing one of our dealers had switched sides and was informing on us to the enemy. Rest assured the guilty party has been dealt with and we’re taking measures to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

Derek scoffed, he had the sneaking suspicion that the ‘guilty party’ had made themselves scarce the second they’d gathered the intelligence they needed and were safely with Deucalion’s people by that point.

“I don’t enjoy being doubted, Derek,” Peter said cuttingly.

“And I don’t enjoy getting shot at,” Derek retorted.

“Well given it’s your job I don’t see how that’s of much consequence. Is that all?” Peter intoned, a little mockingly.

Derek gave him an unimpressed glare, “Just wanted to let you know the stakes are rising uncle. And I hope you understand what you’re putting us all through.”

“Well of course I do. I probably understand them better than you,” Peter snapped back, ”Now if that’s all I’d like to get back to my work.”

Derek kept the glare up as he nodded and turned to leave. If he slammed the door a little harder than necessary well it was the least Peter deserved.

He made his way back downstairs, ignored the concerned looks the others gave him and made his way to the weight set in their makeshift gym. Exercise always helped him blow off steam and god knows he needed it after talking to Peter. His uncle seemed determined to risk their lives recklessly without ever explaining things fully to him or the others. Derek had accepted it in the past, believing that Peter knew what was best for them but that had been when it was only really his life on the line. Things were changing.

He spent the next two hours running through his usual training regimen, working out his aggression and letting himself forget everything else for a while. Erica even joined him for a sparring match and by the end he was calmer and more level headed.

He’d deal with Peter soon, he just had to find a way to get him to talk about what their long term plan was and maybe even limit missions to just Derek. He would do whatever he could to stop his friends getting hurt again.

After drinking some water and thanking Erica he made his way back to his room to check on Stiles. It had been a few hours since Derek had left him there to rest and he’d likely gotten plenty of rest. Derek hoped so anyway, he had an idea.

When he opened the door to his room he saw Stiles curled up on the same armchair that he’d slept on the other night, reading a book. The domesticity of it caught Derek off guard and he stood in the doorway for longer than he’d like to admit.

“Oh hey,” Stiles said when he looked up noticed that he wasn’t alone anymore. He raised the book and smiled, “I hope you don’t mind, I was getting kind of bored. I should probably stop soon though, it’s making my head hurt trying to focus on the words.”

“Yeah maybe you should do something else,” Derek said distantly and then noticed something, “Hey is that my jacket?”

“Yep, it is. I was getting really cold,” Stiles said looking down at the old varsity jacket he had on. “I think I read something once about bloodloss making it easier to get cold or maybe that’s in my head but I was freezing so figured why not? Is that okay?”

Derek wasn’t really sure, the sight of Stiles in his old high school varsity colours of red and gold made him want to stare for ages and he found himself saying, “Yeah... Keep it, it suits you.”

Stiles laughed as he said, “Derek did you just make a Star Wars reference?”

Derek hadn’t realised but once it was pointed out he started laughing too, “I guess I did.”

“Well I didn't peg you for a movie geek but I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover right?” Stiles said as he gave Derek a fond smile.

Derek nodded, “My sisters used to be obsessed with it and I gotta say Leia was kind of my hero growing up.”

Somehow remembering a little detail of his past didn’t hurt like it usually did and it didn’t hurt as much knowing that they all were gone. He just felt a rush of happiness and love for the memory that he’d shared with his sisters and knew that if they were still around they’d have a field day with Derek accidentally using a Star Wars pick up line.

Stiles just grinned and had started geeking out saying, “My favourite was always between Padme and Leia, they were such badass leaders and I’m so excited about the new movies. I think Poe might be my new fave. My best friend always said I was more of a Han Solo though after I finally made him watch the movies.”

“Really?”

“Yeah that whole reckless rogue and part time hero thing. Oh! Nearly forgot, did you come here for something?”

“Right yeah,” Derek had nearly forgotten, “Would you be interested in getting out of here?”

Stiles made a questioning sound and tilted his head before he put the book down on the side table.

“Well you took me out when I was hurt, I thought I could return the favour.”

“Oh,” Stiles seemed genuinely surprised.

Derek thought he might even be flattered and his heart did a little somersault at the idea.

“Sure,” Stiles continued, “Some fresh air could do me good.”

“Great,” Derek said. His cheeks would hurt if he smiled anymore but he did it anyway.

He waited while Stiles put on his shoes and then led the way out to the garage. Derek pulled out the keys to his camaro and opened the door on the passanger side for Stiles.

“I’m not an invalid you know,” Stiles joked as he sat in the car.

“I know,” Derek responded with a grin as he closed the door and made his way around to the driver’s seat.

The drive was short since where they were going was still in the industrial area of the warehouse. They parked next to a large steel container and walked down towards the sound of water.

“The docks are one of my favourite places around this neighbourhood,” Derek explained as they walked, “I know it’s not much but wait till you see the view!”

It took them a few minutes to walk through the deserted docks, Derek knew a route that avoided all the worker’s areas since he came to that spot a lot when he didn’t want to be disturbed. It was getting late and by the time they found their way to the open space of the pier, the sun was already setting.

They walked together out along the raised wooden platform that extended out into the ocean and Stiles let out a low whistle as he stared at the brilliant sky and watched the waves crash in the distance. They had a completely unobstructed view of the ocean from where they were and could even make out a few flocks of birds in the sky.

“This place is amazing Derek!” Stiles exclaimed without taking his eyes off the horizon, “Definitely beats the hardware store.”

Derek laughed and felt warm inside. “I’m glad you like it,” he said genuinely.

It was amazing knowing he’d done something right as the two of them walked back down the pier. They talked a bit more about Star Wars and Derek’s sisters and the others back at the warehouse and anything else they could think of. It felt like every tensed muscle in Derek’s body was relaxing one by one as they walked and enjoyed the view and the wind coming off the water.

After some time Stiles started to look tired so Derek suggested they stop when they had made it back to the start of the pier and they stood by the edge instead. Stiles leaned forward against the railing and Derek was standing close enough that their shoulders brushed. 

Derek adamantly kept his eyes on the horizon ahead of him as he felt his cheeks flush at the contact. It was ridiculous of course. They’d touched each other in much more intimate places than that over the course of the last few weeks but this felt like more. Derek felt the touch like a buzz even through the layers of clothing.

Then Stiles sighed like he was absolutely content and Derek couldn’t help but turn to look back at him. He was breathtaking. Honestly Derek felt himself slip into a sort of trance just watching the smile that played on Stiles’ lips and the brilliant colours of the sunset reflected in his eyes that lit up like he’d never seen such beauty before.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that but then Stiles was turning back to face him and Derek’s perfect calm shifted rapidly to boyish nervousness as their eyes met. Stiles gave him a questioning look but said nothing at first and Derek’s heart pounded.

He forced himself to try to say something but Stiles cut in before he could.

“Thank you for bringing me out here Derek…” He started, his voice low even though there was no one else around.

It made Derek’s forget who he was for a moment, the way Stiles said his name and smiled at him deeply. It was a heady feeling and Derek wondered if he should be worried but it felt too good to question so he didn’t.

Then Stiles turned his body to face Derek and they were both standing inches apart, so close and Derek had no idea what to do about it. Stiles awkwardly put a hand on Derek’s arm and tilted his head like he was trying to figure something out.

“I really needed this,” Stiles said softly, never taking his eyes off of the other man, “and I’m sorry about what happened I didn’t mean for any of it to-”

“Stop,” Derek said because he couldn’t bear to hear the guilt in Stiles’ voice, it didn’t sound right. “If anyone should be saying thank you it’s me Stiles. For what you did- I can never repay you..”

“Hey I thought we weren’t gonna get onto that again,” Stiles said and shook his head in mock disapproval.

Derek was distracted by the way Stiles’ hair brushed over his forehead and a few locks fell into his eyes as his head moved. It caught his eye and Derek didn’t know what he was thinking but he knew what he wanted.

“Okay,” was all he said, before he leaned in and kissed the other man before he could stop himself.

It lasted only a second but the delicious pressure of Derek’s lips on Stiles’ was enough to make him feel like every fibre of him was electrified and alive. It was intoxicating and Derek wanted to stay like that forever. But then a thought occurred to him and it was like the floor fell out from under him. _What if Stiles didn’t want this?_

He pulled back abruptly, took a step back and his lips felt suddenly cold but it was nothing compared to the unbelievable sight of Stiles leaning forward slightly, his eyes closed and lips wet from the kiss. Derek felt like he should run, he had no right to do that. Why had he presumed anything?

He rushed to try to say something, to explain “Stiles I’m sorry I didn’t- I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay,” Stiles breathed out as his eyes fluttered open.

Derek could barely believe his words. Stiles’ expression was strange and Derek couldn’t quite figure it out but he didn’t seem angry or upset, just curious. Like he was looking for something on Derek’s face or possibly within himself. If Derek didn’t know any better he’d think there was a war going on in Stiles’ mind as intense as his own.

Then Stiles stepped closer and Derek stopped breathing. He couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but watch as Stiles brought them even closer than they had been a moment before, their faces inches apart. That close it was easy for Derek to move his hands so that he could lace his fingers in with Stiles’. Neither of them said a word but what was happening felt right.

Derek looked into Stiles’ eyes and searched for a reason to stop, anything that would tell him that he shouldn’t keep going. What he found was a strange and deep want within himself and maybe even Stiles if he was reading him right. Before he could think of anything else they were kissing again. Derek wasn’t even sure which of them had moved first.

Derek’s hands found their way to Stiles’ hips and rested there comfortably as he leaned into Stiles mouth and made small sounds of pleasure. Stiles was giving back as much as he got and Derek lost himself in the ecstasy of the moment. The feeling of Stiles’ fingers a moment later on his jaw angling his face and then moving to tangle in his hair had Derek losing his mind.

When they finally pulled away they were both breathless and barely moved. Derek had his arms around Stiles’ waist, holding him close and Stiles’ hands rested on the back of Derek’s neck as their foreheads touched.

Stiles smiled at Derek and said,  "We really shouldn't have done that." But he didn't sound like he meant a word of it.

Derek felt a small giggle bubble up and really wasn’t sure what had possessed him but he knew it felt good. He knew he felt safe and right and that he wanted to try what they’d just done a million times again and would never let go.

More than that though he wanted to enjoy the moment and told himself there would be time enough for everything else. Stiles seemed content to look into Derek’s eyes and smile fondly. Derek wondered if he looked as content as Stiles did.

He still couldn’t believe that had just happened. That Stiles liked him back. It was a juvenile happiness he got from the sensation of knowing that Stiles returned his feelings and it made him feel like he was filled with something sweet and fluffy.

“Come on the sunset’s nearly over,” Derek said and gave Stiles a small kiss on the cheek before taking his hand and turning them back to face the horizon.

Stiles moved with Derek and gave him a small smile before turning his attention back to the sunset. Derek wanted to make this last and let the calm and happiness wash over him. They watched as the brilliant colours of the yellow sun bled to orange and red and the cloud filled sky danced in a kaleidoscope of purples and blues, darkening till finally the could see the moon rising. Derek had never seen a sunset so beautiful. He squeezed Stiles’ hand and nearly letting out a delighted cry when Stiles squeezed back. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve a night like that but he sure as hell wasn’t about to let it go.

The stood like that in companionable silence for a while watching the stars and listening to the sea. Everything was quiet save the slosh of waves, serene and eventually the street lights that ran down the pier started to come to life. After some time though Derek thought he heard something. It was distant, and he didn’t notice it at first but then the sound was closer and there was no mistaking it. They were footsteps. Loads of them, probably running from the pace that they were pounding out and Derek panicked.

Who would attack them at the pier? How could Deucalion have known they were going to be there? He let go of Stiles’ hand then and turned to see a group of about a dozen armed men and women in full tactical gear making their way towards the two of them guns raised. Had Deucalion hired mercenaries?

One look back at Stiles revealed that the other man had the same panicked expression as Derek but there was something off about it. He didn’t have any time to question it though as the fear and guilt clamped down around his heart. He was the reason Stiles was in this mess and with the few seconds he had before the soldiers reached them, Derek moved to stand in front of Stiles.

It was hopeless, he knew that. They were massively outmanned and outgunned but it was all Derek could do to place himself between Stiles and the approaching threat. He set his jaw defiantly as the soldiers finally neared, fanning out in a formation that blocked even the limited escape options they had.

"Hands where I can see them Hale!” One of the closer soldiers ordered.

Derek had no choice but to comply and raised his hands up. He turned back just enough to give Stiles an apologetic look and felt crushing failure at the situation.

“Slowly, come on. Now step away." The soldier continued.

Derek obliged. There was no way out.

Then for some reason Stiles was snapping at the soldier. "What the hell is this?" He demanded.

"Agent Stilinski sir I'm sorry,” one of the soldiers said gruffly as she stepped forward, “but we're under orders to take Hale in and bring you back."

Derek’s blood ran cold. It was like everything inside his head just stopped.

He was distantly aware of being forced to his knees and handcuffed as Stiles shouted at one of the soldiers and tried to reach him but everything was far away and echoing. His entire world had shrunk to one word.

Agent.

They’d called him Agent Stilinski. The Stiles he knew was a lie. Everything they’d been, every moment, every memory was a sour taste in his mouth. There was a burning in his chest and he wanted to scream and pull against the restraints but for some reason he barely moved.

All he did was look up at the man who had been his Stiles. He looked for what he had seen over the past weeks. Had it only been weeks? It was still strange to think that Derek could fall so far and so fast for someone. It had been exhilarating. He looked for something recognisable and clung to the idea that maybe it wasn’t all gone. It couldn’t be.

What was worse was he found what he was looking for. The same care and concern was in Stiles’ eyes, pleading for Derek to hear him but all he could see was the lies. All he could see was every time Stiles had spoken to him, been kind, or cared for him. He felt the memories as they shattered and dripped with the poison of knowing that it had all been a con. Stiles had played him and Derek felt sick at how easily he’d fallen for it.

He was dragged to his feet by whoever had cuffed him and Derek looked around aimlessly. Stiles seemed to be keeping up the image that he hadn’t been involved in what was happening and was to walk towards him.

“I swear this wasn’t supposed to happen Derek I-” Stiles choked out, his voice breaking before someone pulled him away.

Derek didn’t listen to what Stiles was shouting out to him. He just let the guard lead him into a waiting van. There were three other soldiers in there as well with guns pointed at him when they started moving away but it was like Derek didn’t even see them.

He wanted to be numb. He wanted to forget everything and wished he could take it all back. He could still taste Stiles on his lips and wanted to burn. Fire flashed in his mind and he felt his hands start to shake from the memory.

He couldn’t forget it. He couldn’t take away the pain of losing his family in that blaze and he couldn’t forget how good it had felt to hold Stiles on that pier. All he could do was burn inside and hate himself for caring, hate himself for having been so stupid.

Then it hit him. He was about to lose everything. If the authorities were taking Derek, the rest of them were next. Peter, Erica, Isaac… all of them, his family. It was going to happen again.

He had doomed his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: Blood, Violence, Slightly suicidal character, Fire mention, PTSD, & a minor panic attack
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this. I’m so sorry.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Stiles and Derek returned from their attack on Kali. Stiles was injured but not too badly and later in the evening Derek took him out to the pier and they kissed. Only minutes later though, Agency soldiers showed up, took Derek into custody and revealed Agent Stilinski’s identity.
> 
> (end notes for trigger warnings)

 

Stiles had been on cloud nine after the kiss. He hadn’t expected it at all but the moment Derek had leaned forward it made him feel like he was in highschool again. Once it happened it felt like it had been a long time coming and the tension between them dissolved into delicious pleasure as Stiles let himself give in. It had felt right.

It had felt like the sort of moment that was untouchable and golden but only minutes later it had shattered. And that was Stiles’ fault. The guilt and anger burned in him, making him shake as he watched the soldiers take Derek away. Stiles tried to call out to him but it was in vain; Derek wasn’t listening to him. And why should he?

Why should he listen to a man who’d done nothing but lie and deceive since the moment they’d met? Stiles felt disgusted with himself. How had he let it get this far? How could he have done that to someone? The kiss had been a mistake, he knew that, but to let the feelings for Derek become real, that was his true mistake. 

What made him think he had the right to care for someone he’d done this to? He’d seen Derek’s look of disgust and hatred. Worse, a moment later after they’d cuffed him, he just looked defeated and indifferent towards Stiles. It had sent a jagged shard of guilt and self loathing straight through his heart and he’d desperately tried to stop what was happening, to explain somehow. But what could he have said? What could he have done?

Stiles had felt completely hopeless and empty as he was held back and and watched them drive Derek away.

“Good job Stilinski,” one of the soldiers was saying sincerely, clapping him on the shoulder.

People kept saying that to him recently and the words made his anger flare up.

“And what exactly did I do, Captain Yukimura?” Stiles practically spat, “All I could do was stand around gawking because I had no idea the Agency had a sting operation planned!”

Stiles saw her shocked expression before she took a step back from him and raised her hands placatingly. 

“Stiles I’m sorry, but Director Argent ordered Hale to be brought in personally and didn’t stop to explain why.”

Stiles shook his head, still not able to understand, “And what the  _ fuck _ could be important enough to interrupt my investigation?” 

He wanted to say so much more than that, wanted to scream long and loud enough that he could claw back the last few minutes like they’d never happened. Just go back to the moment that Derek had held Stiles in his arms and kissed him and held his hands and talked about the sunset. Stiles didn’t think he’d ever felt so at peace and it had made him forget what he’d been doing. He just wanted to be the Stiles that Derek knew.

If he was to have any hope to see Derek again though he had to deal with the situation at hand. Stiles knew he was being childish, knew he’d essentially thrown a tantrum and the realisation of that added a level of embarrassment on top of the guilt. He had to deal with what was happening though, had to go see Argent and figure out what could be bad enough that they would jeopardise one of their recently most successful missions, even though Stiles was loathe to call what he had done a success. 

Captain Yukimura and some of the other soldiers who’d stayed behind were giving him curious looks as he thought, so he tried to explain.

“I’m sorry Kira, this isn’t your fault,” Stiles sighed, “I’ve just... been undercover too long. Let’s head back.”

She nodded as Stiles made his way wordlessly over to the second van he could see parked on the curb. As captain she motioned to one of her subordinates to drive and sat in the back on a bench with Stiles as they drove away. He could feel her eyes on him but there was nothing he could do that would make her believe she shouldn’t be worried about him. He didn’t want to try to fake what he felt anymore anyway.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Agency’s Headquarters were a series of hidden floors under an unassuming office building. The van entered through the underground parking and past a series of checkpoints and ID checks. Stiles saw the van that Derek had most likely been in but it was off to the side and had clearly arrived long before they had.

The second they got inside back Stiles made a beeline for the Directors’ office, charging through the large complex of training rooms, offices and past their large armoury. He didn’t stop to say anything to anyone but noticed the looks they gave him as he walked past. Stiles realised he must have looked strange amongst the formally dressed majority as he was still wearing jeans and Derek’s jacket. He touched initials on the lapel without thinking and resolved to fix Derek’s situation as quickly as he could.

When Stiles finally got to the office he threw the door open and found three people inside but none of them was who he was looking for. Director Deaton, Lydia and Scott were crowded in front of the desk on the right side of the large room that mirrored Argent’s desk on the left. They had been deep in discussion but turned abruptly when Stiles entered.

“Agent Stilinski,” Deaton said, his voice calm as always but noticeably straining to stay that way, “I’m glad you’re here we have much to discuss-” 

“Where is Argent?” Stiles demanded.

He was met with concerned expressions, Lydia and Scott in particular looked drained and he noticed the three of them share a look before Deaton continued.

“Chris is interrogating the prisoner personally Stiles, you must understand -”

Then Scott cut him off, his voice raw and eyes full of terror as he turned to his friend and said, “Stiles, they have Allsion.”

His blood ran cold when he heard that. It couldn’t be.

“He’s right,” Lydia said with pursed lips, clearly trying to keep it together, “her cover was blown a few hours ago and she managed to send a distress signal but there has been no contact beyond that. There’s no doubt Deucalion’s people have her by now.”

“Stiles we have to find her,” Scott pleaded, “Derek Hale was the closest connection we had quick access to and since the Hales worked with Deucalion in the past we thought that he’d know something about where they could be holding her.”

“Scott is right,” Deaton agreed, “Chris knew you’d likely be close to Mister Hale so we followed the tracker and apprehended him for further questioning. Hopefully he’ll give up the information we need to find and save Miss Alison.”

“We still need to find her?” Stiles asked, surprised, “Isn’t that what our trackers are for?”

Lydia looked pained and explained, “Her tracker went dark about an hour ago. Danny’s been working on a fix but we think either it’s been removed or more likely she’s in an area that’s jamming the signal.”

Stiles nodded somberly, finally understanding what they wanted Derek for. He was on the edge of panic though between wanting to help save Allison and getting to Derek to try to explain what had happened. Every moment he waited meant a moment Derek thought Stiles was a monster and had just been manipulating him. The darker side of Stiles reminded him that in fact that was exactly what he’d done. He’d been playing Derek from the start and however much it had hurt or however much he’d wanted to tell Derek who he really was Stiles had still let the Agency control him. Had still lied and pretended they could have been something more, all the while informing on Derek and everyone he held dear.

He’d known it was his duty. He’d sworn to follow orders and had done more invasive things for years in the name of justice. He’d upheld the values of his parents and felt righteous but this had felt different from the start. It had felt wrong. Stiles wasn’t even sure of what was the right thing to do anymore he was just defeated. He didn’t even know what he would say to Derek if he saw him. 

“We have to let Chris handle this for now Stiles,” Deaton was saying “why don’t you let Scott take a look at you while you wait? I understand you sustained some injuries on a recent operation.”

Stiles just nodded and followed Scott out and to the infirmary. His mind was reeling with questions of morality and the implications of Allison’s cover being blown. It was something he hadn’t expected for a second, she was always so careful and he was as terrified something might happen to her as he was worried about Derek. Scott looked absolutely destroyed with bags under his eyes and Stiles noticed his friend fiddling and fidgeting more than normal as he pulled out medical supplies and insisted Stiles sit on one of the beds.

Stiles had a sinking feeling that both agents having their identities revealed at the same time would only escalate the impending war between Deucalion and Hale’s people. This whole thing would be far from over even if they managed to rescue Alison. For the moment though he had his best friend by his side again and felt drained by the revelations of the previous hour.

“How are you doing Scott?” Stile asked hesitantly as he unwrapped the bandage around his head.

“I’m holding it together,” Scott said with a strained smile before moving to dab at the wound on the back of Stiles’ head with peroxide and ointment.

“Listen we’ll get her back Scott, I promise. Listen it’s Allison, alright? She’s tougher than the both of us put together you know that,” Stiles said trying to smile, if there was one thing he wasn’t going to let himself screw up it was his relationship with Scott. He was going to be there for him so Stiles did what he did best, he ranted. “Maybe she’ll even get herself out and the two of you can elope or something. I still don’t know why you guys insist on a winter wedding it’s so far away and the reservations aren’t going to be any easier to get. Just have Danny hack into the hotel registry or something.”

Scott had started to smile about half way through and that was enough for Stiles to feel like he might be okay. That everything might be okay. They’d save Allison, and he’d figure out what to do from there. Stiles was adamantly not thinking about Derek. 

A few minutes later Scott had finished up with Stiles’ head injury and it didn’t even need a bandage any longer.

“Whoever fixed you up did a good job by the way,” Scott commented as he handed Stiles some painkillers for the headache that was still bothering him.

Stiles just nodded and swallowed the pills, his mind failing to hold back the image of Derek helping him sit up and Erica mentioning how he’d carried Stiles himself to and from the car. The man had barely left his side and Stiles hated himself as he remembered Derek had only done that because he’d believed Stiles’ lies.

“Hey guys,” Lydia called from the door and she entered, “You patched up okay Stiles?”

“Better yeah, thanks to Scott,” Stiles said distantly.

“Good to hear,” Lydia said formally “Director Argent will want you on the strike team once he gets Hale to talk.”

Something about that bothered Stiles. “Derek hasn’t given up the intel on Deucalion?”

“Apparently not,” Lydia shrugged, “I’m sure Argent will get the information one way or another though. I can’t say I agree with his less diplomatic methods but with Allison on the line-”

Stiles didn’t hear the rest of what Lydia said because he was bolting out the door and down the hall to the interrogation rooms. He’d heard enough and wanted to kick himself for not realising sooner. If Derek wasn’t going to answer then Argent would do just about anything to get Allison back. 

Stiles’ head was pounding and the adrenaline was pumping through his veins when he reached one of the rooms and knew it was the one he needed because there were two armed guards stationed outside. Probably two from the same detail who’d taken Derek away from Stiles on the pier.

“Let me through.” Stiles growled.

“Sir?” One of them asked, confused.

“You know who I am soldier, I have been undercover for the last four weeks with the Hales and I have business with the prisoner. Now open this fucking door.”

The two visibly blanched but didn’t budge. 

“I’m sorry sir,” one of them said hesitantly, “the Director gave us strict instructions not to let anyone through, I’m sure if you talk to him after-”

“Does it look like we have the time to wait around?” Stiles spat, “Do you have any idea what’s happening around here?”

The first soldier looked like he was ready to run but tried to hold his ground and said, “We can’t let you in, I’m sorry-”

Then the other one spoke up. “If you want you could go into the observation room sir,” she said placatingly, “maybe speak to the Director from there?”

Stiles was fuming but he needed to act so he grudgingly stepped through the second door off to the side into the small space and could see through the one way glass into the room opposite. It was a plain interrogation room like the half dozen others the Agency had in their main building, with a table and two chairs across from one another. Derek was sitting down with his hands cuffed behind him. 

Director Argent was standing over him with some sort of baton in his hand and Stiles’ heart seized at the sight. Derek had a defiant expression as he looked up at Argent and that was when Stiles noticed that Derek’s breath seemed to be laboured and heavy like he was in pain. Stiles felt a pang of fear and worry. Maybe it was the wounds from the fight with Daeler were still bothering him? He hoped that was all it was.

Then Argent started speaking and Stiles pressed the button on the small console to his right to listen in. There wasn’t much else he could do.

“You’re going to tell me what I need to know one way or the other Hale,” Chris growled, his grip on the baton tightening. Stiles had never seen him look that intense.

Derek just spat at him and Chris reacted immediately. He raised the baton against Derek but to Stiles’ surprise didn’t strike him with it, instead he drove it into Derek’s stomach. Stiles wanted to call out and warn Derek when he noticed the baton was a modified taser but then he saw the electric discharge and it was too late. Derek screamed and his whole body curled in on itself, helpless.

The sound tore through Stiles and he felt a burning rage inside himself. He was going to kill Argent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: torture, electrocution, pain
> 
> Also, classes have started up again for me so chapters will likely be shorter and I should still be able to post weekly but things happen so apologies in advance.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Stiles heard about Derek being interrogated by Director Argent and went over there to see for himself. He had been watching from the observation room when Argent attacked Derek.
> 
> (General pain and torture TW)
> 
> EDIT: So its a busy time for me and I've kind of hit a block. I'll keep working at it and try to post a new chapter by Thursday 18th Feb.

Everything was agony. Pure and unbearable and every nerve and muscle in Derek’s body was pulled taut like he was burning. He heard himself scream and could think of nothing but the pain. It felt like it lasted forever and when it finally stopped he was left with a crackling ache around his stomach and his cuts and scars stung like they were fresh wounds.

Slowly he tried to bring himself back to some semblance of consciousness, letting the pain wash over him and sucking in ragged breaths trying to slow his heartbeat. He moved instinctively, shifting his shoulders and tried to sit up to breathe better. The man who’d introduced himself as Director Argent stood over him and looked as merciless as the moment he’d stepped in the room.

Derek bit back a wince as he straightened his arm behind his back and felt the overly tightened cuffs dig into his wrists. He wasn’t going to give Argent the satisfaction.

He wasn’t how sure how long he’d been in the small room, could have been anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour. At first it had just been questions, Argent had sat across from him and ran through what he wanted to know. Derek was surprised that he had asked more about Deucalion than Peter but it didn’t matter because he answered nothing.

He sat there completely silent, resolved not to let anyone down more than he already had. His life was forfeit anyway once they found out the truth. And Derek realised bitterly that Stiles knew almost everything about him and could tell them exactly what Derek was. Who he’d killed, the kind of monster he was. Nothing mattered anymore and Derek had felt numb as Argent got angrier and angrier with his silence, finally rising from his seat and attacking Derek.

He took the punishment. Almost felt a sick sort of satisfaction at the justice of it. He’d let himself be used and manipulated and it was going to cost him everything he held dear. So he let Argent hurt him even though he knew he could fight back despite being tied up. Nothing he did mattered anymore and he let his shoulders slump as he waited for the next blow.

He waited but it didn’t come, instead he heard shouting coming through the wall and out of the corner of his eye saw Argent turn to face the door. A second later it slammed open and someone was charging in, hitting the shock-stick out of Argent’s hands and pushing the man up against the wall like it was nothing.

Derek’s head snapped up to watch this development and was shocked when he realised that the man with a death hold on Argent and burning hatred in his eyes was Stiles. It was a strange jolt and Derek didn’t know what to think, he hadn’t expected to see Stiles ever again, much less like this.

Stiles was practically frothing at the mouth and Derek couldn’t look away from the anger that he had never seen before. It scared him maybe even more than Argent had but then he’d been expecting that, he never could have anticipated that the man he’d kissed and betrayed him that night would be standing between him and an attacker.

“Since when do we torture prisoners Chris?” Stiles growled at Argent, their faces inches apart and Stiles looking like he would like nothing better than to rip the man’s throat out with his teeth.

Derek would have been scared if he wasn’t in awe of what Stiles was doing but at the same time he felt the word ‘prisoner’ like a dagger twisting in his gut. No matter how Stiles was protecting him in this moment, Derek was nothing more than a mark to him. A job that he’d completed. There was probably some bureaucratic reason Stiles was against hurting a prisoner and Derek was determined not to let himself read into anything. This wasn’t Stiles, that person didn’t even really exist and Derek had to start thinking of him as Agent Stilinski. The man who was going to destroy everything he cared about.

So he just watched and tried not to react when Argent easily released Stiles’ hold and pushed him back, twisting the young man’s arm behind his back with a terrifying look on his face.

“Outside. Now.” Was all Argent said before letting go of Stiles’ arm and heading out of the door without so much as a second glance at Derek.

Stiles did look back at Derek though for a moment and the anger from a moment ago drained from his face completely. Stiles’ face was the picture of concern and it made Derek’s stomach churn because why was he still acting? Why did Agent Stilinski feel like he still needed to lie?

But then Stiles was turning away without a word and Derek’s train of thought was cut off. He thought he heard Chris saying something along the lines of ‘I don’t have to explain myself to you’ and Stiles expressing disdain at that but everything else was muffled by the door as it closed behind them.

Derek took the opportunity to relax his body a little, trying to work through the pain and exhaustion that had spread to every muscle. He grit his teeth as he felt the stitches on his abdomen loosen but there wasn’t anything he could do about now. He turned his mind to trying to process what had happened to him though. If for nothing else, then for something to do besides wallowing in the self hatred that threatened to swallow him whole.

First he tried to figure out how much time had passed. He knew the sun set at about 7 when he and Stiles had been on the pier. For a moment Derek remembered the taste of his lips and the satisfaction of having what he’d wanted since almost the moment they’d met but was all the sweeter for waiting till he knew him better. Or at least thought he knew him.

The betrayal still stung every time Derek realised that none of it had been real. Stiles had used him and that was how he’d ended up with his hands tied behind his back on a steel chair in a place he’d never been before. Where was he? It had taken them almost half an hour in the windowless van to reach where they were and Derek had been lead into the interrogation room with a bag over his head so there wasn’t much he could discern. He knew that if he had focused during the ride he might have been able to follow the directions they’d taken and figure out where they were and have a hope of escape but his spirit had broken the moment that soldier had identified Stiles as an agent, a traitor. And one that Derek had trusted more even than his family, the people he’d claimed to protect.

Even if he had thought he could somehow find his way out, he would have a hard time getting past the several armed guards that he’d at least managed to identify from the sound of their heavy boots as he was lead through a maze of halls to the room he was left in till Argent arrived. The questioning hadn’t lasted long before Stiles had interrupted.

Argent had been very focused in what he was asking about and Derek took a second to think about that. The only information the man had seemed interested was in relation to Deucalion’s base and how best to attack it. Derek had been working on strategies to do the same thing with Peter for almost a month and they’d worked together in the past so he knew plenty but wasn’t about to give any of that information up.

As he remembered Deucalion and the feud though Derek came to a realisation that made him swear under his breath.

The second that the others realised that he was missing, they would think that he’d been taken by Deucalion’s people. If they didn’t just assume he’d been killed outright in retaliation for the attack on the restaurant. Peter would use it to work them all into a frenzy and it wouldn’t be long before they were arming themselves and headed to Deucalion’s base of operations for a full scale attack. They had no idea that the people who had Derek would be there as well, even if he refused to give up the information they would find out and his people wouldn’t stand a chance.

Derek needed to get out. Needed to warn them, explain what had happened and what they were walking into. He had to stop them from risking their lives in a fight they were not ready for. But Derek didn’t even know where he was, let alone how to get out.

Neither the two soldiers stationed outside the interrogation room nor the ones who’d apprehended him wore any identifying gear and they were all very well equipped. Derek wasn’t stupid enough to think he could take them on alone. After all, he was used to acting in the dark with the element of surprise. Peter had made him into a creature of the night with only one goal. To kill.

He must have only been alone in the room for 10-15 minutes but it felt like a lifetime. Derek almost wished that Argent would come back. At least the pain kept his mind off of what he was and all the things he’d done and that he was completely helpless to stop what was going to happen. Did the killing even matter anymore if the people he’d been trying to protect by doing that were doomed anyway?

Derek was wondering about that when the door opened again and someone new came in. The man was about Stiles’ age but had darker skin and had a comforting air about him that Derek found completely out of place. The man was holding a small bag that looked like a medical kit and even smiled. He seemed almost familiar but Derek put the thought of his mind, it was impossible and a second later he was distracted anyway.

Stiles stepped into the room behind the first man and was looking at Derek like he was some caged animal that he expected to leap at him at any second. Part of Derek felt satisfaction at the trepidation in Stiles’ stance and the distance he was keeping but it still hurt knowing that things had changed that much between them.

Neither of them looked at each other long before Stiles simply leaned against the wall next to the door and the other man who’d entered with him spoke.

“I’m Scott McCall, resident physician over here,” he was saying as he stepped up to Derek and put his bag on the table and started rummaging through, “I’m told you have some bad cuts that could use some attention?”

Derek was confused to say the least. He’d just been tortured by these people and now they’d sent him a doctor? It smelled like manipulation but he was hurting and Scott seemed alright so Derek stayed silent and let the doctor examine him.

He asked Derek a few questions first about pain and and general injuries which Derek responded to curtly and clinically. He also mentioned that the wound in his side was worse than it had been without mentioning that Argent had likely been the cause of that since he’d been hit and shocked very close to there. The area still stung and Scott knelt down to take a look.

Scott was trying to keep the hem of his shirt out of the way at the same time as he was unwrapping the bandage but was having trouble managing both.

“Hey Stiles can I get a hand over here?” Scott muttered as he worked.

Derek went rigid at the sound of someone else saying that name. He’d assumed it was just an alias, a silly name they’d made up for when he’d gone undercover. There was something strange about knowing that at least he hadn’t lied about his first name. Derek still jerked away instinctively though when Stiles stepped forward and he could see the look of hurt in the man’s eyes at the reaction before he looked away from Derek.

Scott just sighed, “It’s either this or you go shirtless, Hale. You’re call.”

Derek had half a mind to tell him he’d rather not accept help from either of them. Would rather not be in the same room as Stiles ever again but he doubted he had much choice in the matter. And he’d rather have part of his shirt lifted than be exposed completely, even though he’d never really cared about that sort of thing. He was usually confident in his body and Stiles had seen him like that several times and maybe that was why Derek wasn’t about to let Stiles see him like that again. It was a small rebellion in the grand scheme of things but it was something.

So Derek grunted his assent and let Stiles step forwards and crouch next to Scott. Derek flinched when Stiles’ long fingers rested on his stomach as he lifted the shirt but both of them managed to stay businesslike beyond that. They didn’t even look at each other as Scott announced he needed to restitch the wound and began working. Derek was too busy trying to deal with the pain anyway.

Stiles looked at him with concern when his gritted teeth changed to bearly muffled grunts though and asked Scott for some painkillers. Derek would have refused them if he didn’t think he would blackout otherwise. They wouldn’t untie him to take the pills so that meant Stiles had to put the pill in Derek’s mouth and give him water from a glass he brought. It was awkward and strange and Derek nearly spat out the pills when Stiles’ fingers brushed his lips but they managed. Derek was ashamed of having to be in a situation like that at all and was reminded that it was his own ignorance and gullibility that had lead him there.

After Scott had finished and reapplied a bandage to the cut he gave Derek’s other injuries a cursory check but seemed satisfied. Stiles had stepped back once he was no longer needed and Derek was relieved when the man went to go stand by the door. It was only a few feet of distance but he finally felt like he could breathe again. Being around Stiles just reminded him of how he’d failed and Derek hoped that once Scott was done they would both leave.

“That’s all I can do right now I think,” Scott was saying to no one in particular. He’d packed up all of his materials and looked ready to go.

He made his way to the door after a nod to Derek but then stopped. Derek could see a look that Stiles was giving Scott and he couldn’t read it but knew that the two were communicating something without words and it made him uneasy.

Then Scott just nodded, put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and squeezed. It made Derek’s chest constrict, seeing love like that. It reminded him of his sisters and he tried not to think about that as Scott left, closing the door behind him, leaving Derek alone with Stiles.

Derek felt himself starting to panic and he couldn’t look up. He couldn’t even move; he didn’t know what to do or what to think all he knew was that he could not be alone with Stiles. Something he’d wanted to badly had become his nightmare and he wanted to rip his hands out of the cuffs and bolt out of the room but he was powerless.

So he just watched Stiles as he looked back at the door as if to make sure that they really were alone. Argent had told Derek that the cameras in the room had been turned off and he was inclined to believe him after what the man had done to him. What was Stiles going to do.

Derek watched him like a deer in the headlights as Stiles walked back across the room towards him without making eye contact. The tension was palpable and Derek held his breath as Stiles sat down across from him and placed his hands awkwardly in front of him and opened his mouth as if to say something.

Derek had no idea what to expect but when Stiles finally looked up at him he couldn’t have anticipated the apology in his eyes. It was plain to see and the expression was so open that Derek let his stoic demeanour drop for a second and Stiles seemed to notice.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said after a pause and held Derek’s assessing gaze.

The words made Derek’s pulse pound faster and he wanted to believe them so badly his heart ached but he couldn’t let himself give in again. Stiles was after something, probably the same information. They were trying a different approach to get what Derek knew and he wasn’t going to let them do it. So he schooled his features into neutrality and settled in to approach this the same way he had the interrogation with Argent. If his face expressed more hostility than it had before then he couldn’t really help it.

Stiles seemed disappointed Derek hadn’t said anything but continued, “What Chri- Director Argent did to you was wrong. He had his reasons but he was wrong. And…” He hesitated and looked away for a second before meeting Derek’s eyes again with new conviction before he said, “What I did to you… with you... it was wrong okay?”

Derek felt a flare of anger at the memory of him and Stiles together on the pier. He wanted to scream at being used like that, wanted to channel his anger at someone else for once. But he wasn’t going to give Stiles anything more of himself, he refused. And so he didn’t react.

Stiles just looked tired and sighed, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, they weren’t supposed to bring you in like that. I was supposed to have time, we would have…” He trailed off and looked into the distance, defeated.

“I just came here to try to explain. I don’t usually… I know I can’t make up for what I did but there’s more at stake here now. The information you could give us can help you. Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Jackson- I want to protect them as much as you do. Peter will have tto answer for what he’s done but if you tell us what we want to know about Deucalion I can convince Argent to make a deal.”

Derek raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“One of our agents is Argent’s daughter, and the fiancee of the man you just met actually, she’s in trouble. She’s saved my ass more times than I can count and Deucalion’s going to kill her or worse if we don’t do something fast.”

Derek noticed the edge of fear in Stiles’ voice and he seemed genuine but Derek was well aware that he’d been convinced of many other things by this man that had turned out to be lies. The offer of a deal was probably a ruse too, it was too good to be true that Derek could hope to protect them so easily and that Argent’s people would keep their word. It didn’t matter how open and vulnerable Stiles may have seemed in the moment, Derek couldn’t trust a word he said.

“Derek, please you have to understand-”

He scoffed at that even though the sound of his name on Stiles’ lips sent a shiver through him.

“Look, I know you have no reason to believe me,” Stiles admitted but continued with passion, “but there are good people here. Allison doesn’t deserve what’s about to happen. None of us do and she matters to everyone here like I know Isaac and the others matter to you. Scott would be destroyed if we lost her, she’s his everything but he didn’t think for even a second about hurting you because that’s not who he is. He’s a good person, a healer.”

“And what are you then?” Derek found himself asking without thinking. His anger had finally bubbled over.

Stiles looked shocked like he hadn’t expected Derek to speak at all but then smiled bitterly and said, “You know what I am. I’m a liar.”

There was a pause then as they looked at each and Derek tried to figure out what Stiles was trying to do, amazed that he’d actually admitted that. It was disorienting, one moment Stiles was trying to seem sympathetic and the next he was admitting his faults. It had to be some sort of manipulation but at least there was some honesty in there.

Stiles continued, “We can still salvage this situation Derek. Listen I’m sorry about what happened, it wasn’t supposed to be like this but if we can-”

“What was it supposed to be like then?” Derek snapped, he was sick of listening to Stiles talk about things like they would be okay. “Was I supposed to thank you for lying to me and putting everyone I love in danger? Was I supposed to be happy that I kissed the man who is going to destroy everything that my family has built?”

“I never meant for any of that to happen!” Stiles’ voice broke and he seemed like he was grasping at straws as he started to ramble and flail. “I never wanted to lie to you- it all happened so fast I didn’t think! I just saw you and I couldn’t stop it, I had to know it was you I-”

“What?” That caught Derek’s interest. Stiles had to have known who he was from his research didn’t he?

Stiles stopped like he’d said something he wasn’t supposed to but then seemed to think. He looked down at his hands and fiddled with his fingers and Derek’s eyes were caught by the movement. It was such an innocent and nervous little tick and Derek almost believed that Stiles was nervous about something he didn’t want to admit. But he knew that like before this must be the Agent acting on his training and trying to manipulate him.

When Stiles finally spoke he was hesitant and couldn’t meet Derek’s gaze. “...I recognised you. I still don’t know if I’m right sometimes even though your file confirmed it.”

He looked up at Derek expectantly like that explained everything but Derek was just more confused than before. Recognised him? What did that mean? Did they know each other?

Stiles’ brow furrowed and Derek almost felt guilty.

“You don’t remember do you…” Stiles said, the disappointment clear in his voice and expression, “maybe I was wrong…”

Then Derek realised the feeling of recognition that he’d had when he was around Stiles. His mind started retracing their steps back to their first meeting when the feeling had been almost overwhelming but he’d pushed the thought aside, not interested in looking to his past. The feeling at the back of his mind had remained though the small voice telling him that there was something about Stiles that he knew, that he’d known from before.

Stiles.... No it couldn’t have been- could it? Derek caught flashes of men and women in uniform laughing, some holding books, other sparring. He knew what the memory was, his training. Before Peter, before the fire, before he’d become the Alpha.

How had he forgotten the name Stiles? How had he forgotten the man himself? He could see a younger version of the man leaning against a Jeep that Derek had helped fix and even Scott had been there. The image was so clear in his head for a moment it was like he was back there again.

Derek couldn’t believe it. Had the loss of his family and his rebirth with Peter been such a change? Had it really been enough to wipe out memories like that? Because it was like that whole part of his life from anywhere before the fire had been lost to him until that moment and were all rushing back as he thought of them and looked at the man sitting in front of him.

“Derek?” Stiles was looking at him with curiosity and concern.

“I… I do remember you."


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the hiatus, life happened and then I hit a writing block but shout out to that one commenter that reminded me to get back into this fic! 
> 
> Not sure if I’ll be able to keep this up but I thought I’d post this chapter I’ve been struggling to finish for months, hope you all like it <3
> 
> Previously: Stiles charged into the interrogation room to stop Chris from torturing Derek and later brought in Scott to patch up the assassin. Stiles and Derek were left alone and eventually Stiles admits that he’s recognised Derek this whole time. Derek remembers him too.

There was so much that Stiles wanted to say, so much that he wanted to explain to Derek once he saw that he wasn’t crazy in thinking they had known each other once. It was a strange ethereal sort of moment where he was frozen and buzzing with energy and the need to get everything out at once.

Stiles let out a sigh of relief at Derek’s recognition without thinking and smiled. Derek for his part looked completely shocked and Stiles realised how strange and terrible this must be for him and the moment crashed down on him. Not only had someone Derek trusted betrayed him, it had been someone he’d known for years and trained with.

Stiles gulped and struggled to try to find a way to start because he owed Derek an explanation so he pushed past the guilt.

“It was five years ago and I wasn’t even sure at first,” he started babbling, “I had no idea what had happened to you and we all thought you were dead or something after you disappeared and then I saw you…” Stiles trailed off as he thought back again to Derek appearing at the top of the stairs in the warehouse.

“I..” Derek began hesitantly, “I wasn’t sure either.” His eyes were boring holes into Stiles and it was like they were flooded with every moment they had shared and were holding him accountable for something.

“It was a long time ago and you’ve been… well busy I guess,” Stiles said trying to come to terms with it.

Derek nodded grimly, “A lot has changed.”

“It has,” Stiles agreed pensively and looked down at his hands, “we all wondered why you never came back to finish your training you know?” He knew his voice was uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable when he said that and he couldn’t stop fiddling with his fingers.

Derek seemed to think about that and there was a pause.

“Scott and I finished the training… obviously um, ” Stiles tried to continue in a bizarre, awkward version of catching up without looking at Derek, “we were recruited pretty much straight after and this place has been good. I mean, I don’t know if you remember how much I wanted to follow my father into his line of work, though I never expected this.”

It was strange how easy it was to open up to Derek about that, knowing that he’d told him some of this before and at one point they’d sat around and talked about what they wanted for the future.

“You wanted to follow your sister right?” Stiles asked, as the memories came back to him slowly.

Derek’s reaction to the mention of Laura was almost imperceptible but Stiles noticed his jaw clench and flinched.

“Sorry I didn’t mean-” Stiles began.

“Yes,” Derek cut in, his gaze distant, “I wanted to follow her into the army or something similar. Me and Cora always looked up to her.”

The admiration in his voice was clear and Stiles heart softened at the simple admission. He could almost forget for a moment that Derek was a prisoner and let himself believe they were talking about themselves like they were normal people, co-workers, even friends. The illusion lasted about five seconds before Derek spoke again, a hardness creeping into his eyes.

“That didn’t happen though,” he spat, “Laura’s dead with the rest of them and I had a new life till a few hours ago.”

It hurt Stiles to see Derek talk so callously about her and see how it must be taking its toll. He knew of course that this was meant to make it clear how much Derek hated him and that there was no going back. Stiles knew that and yet couldn’t let go of the hope that maybe the could salvage something.

“Derek... I’m as lost here as you are,” he tried pleading, “They didn’t tell me anything when they came and took you. It’s not some joke to me what happened to you and I want to help but you have to work with me here-”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word on that?” Derek cut in bitterly, “After what you did?”

His disgust twisted like a knife that was already buried deep in Stiles’ gut and left him winded.

“No…” Stiles muttered, his voice small, “I wouldn’t trust me either but if I could change what happened to you or your family I would. When I recognised you I wanted to be able to tell you who I was Derek, I wanted to do a lot of things but I can’t help who I am and what I do.”

He knew his voice was raw and his admissions were useless to someone who wouldn’t believe him but something in him had snapped and he was desperate.

Derek gave him a cold smile, “We both do what we have to right?”

Stiles felt the familiar words dig into him and his hope dwindled further. There was nothing he could say to that.

“Tell me something,” Derek said, his confidence and control mounting, “If you weren’t really involved then how did your people even find us at the pier?”

Stiles was relieved that he actually had an answer for that one and explained as impartially as he could, “I’ve got this tracker in my back that they use that to keep tabs on me. All field agents are required to have them.”

“Then why don’t they just use those to find that missing agent of yours?”

Stiles wondered if Derek was trying to distract from what they’d been talking about but he was honestly thankful they were still even talking so he answered.

“Allison’s tracker isn’t transmitting anymore. We’re not sure why but it can’t mean anything good.”

At that, Derek’s expression was curiously changing from hostility to something more calculating and slightly conflicted. Stiles wished he could figure him out as easily as he could when Derek hadn’t known the truth and they had entrusted their lives to each other. It was like there had been barriers that Derek had let down around Stiles but they’d all gone back up the second the Agency had stepped in.

It was the opposite with Stiles though; all of his walls were stripped away along with the lies and he didn’t have an ounce of control anymore. All he had was the need to protect his friends, both those in the agency and those with Peter.

Then Derek was speaking and Stiles was blinking in confusion because he thought he must have misheard.

“I’ll help you,” Derek said, leveling Stiles with a determined stare, his voice even and devoid of any emotion except perhaps some remnant of the disgust that had been on his face before.

“What?” Stiles heard himself say.

“I’ll help you figure out a way into Deucalion’s place. Your people will be sitting ducks without my intel anyway.”

“Why?”

Derek shrugged, “You said something about better deals for the others and I’m willing to see if someone in this godforsaken place says what they mean. And anyways, I’m happy to help with a hit on Deucalion. The enemy of my enemy is my friend right?”

It was suspiciously quick change of heart but frankly Stiles was so relieved that he dismissed his trepidation. Because now they actually had a chance; Allison had a chance.

“Of course I’ll expect to come with you all,” Derek added almost like it was an after a thought.

“What?” Squawked Stiles.

“There are multiple places they could be holding her and you’ll never find your way around on your own and I want to be there.” He stated coldly.

“Derek I don’t know if they’ll let you-”

“Make it happen Agent Stilinski, otherwise you can forget about my help.”

Derek spat the word Agent like it was a bad word he could barely stand to stay. It branded Stiles as the enemy that he had been from the start and he didn’t know what to do, so he just nodded numbly before he made his way out of the interrogation room without looking back. He brushed past the guards who were posted at the door with so much as a glance at them and walked blindly down halls. He didn’t know where he was going and he didn’t care, he just knew he needed to get away.

He found himself in an empty hallway and leaned his back against the wall, feeling winded. He rubbed his eyes as he tried to think of what to do. He was torn and thinking about the way Derek had looked at him in that interrogation room wasn’t helping. Stiles could feel the panic creeping up on him but pushed it down violently. He knew what he had to do and worrying about what a criminal thought of him could not be allowed to distract him. Lives were at stake.

So he spent a moment calming his shaky breathing and regaining his composure before he made his way to the Directors’ office and was able to find Director Deaton, Lydia and Scott. They were discussing various possible approaches on some of Deucalion’s strongholds and Stiles braced himself to present Derek’s proposal. It wasn’t the best idea but neither had been bringing in Peter Hale’s right hand man in on a whim. Right now though, he was their best asset and that’s what Stiles tried to get across as he explained to a room full of trained agents that they needed to trust an assassin.

Deaton was skeptical, Lydia thought they were out of their minds for even considering it and Scott just looked pained. The debate went on for about five minutes before Chris charged in and after hearing the plan declared that it was worth the risk. None of them were willing to say how little time Allison likely had or the trouble they would have to deal with once Derek’s people realised he was missing. Right now they had to neutralise one crime syndicate as quickly as possible before the other became a threat.

Everything moved even faster after that decision was made. Chris scrambled to assemble the strike teams, Lydia rushed to her work station to compile all the data and communication uplinks they would need and soon the entire facility was buzzing with activity. Deaton told Stiles that he would go hash out the details of their deal with Derek and didn’t attempt to hide the fact that he would prefer the young agent wasn’t there. It stung but Stiles couldn’t blame him. Derek didn’t trust him anymore and even though he may have managed to get him to agree cooperate, negotiating the details of a deal in good faith was not something Stiles could help with anymore. So he swallowed his pride and went to go suit up.

The armoury was a chaotic jumble of movement but Director Argent’s voice could be heard barking orders over all of it. Stiles made himself busy putting on a kevlar vest and arming himself for the second time in two days. The bruise on his side from the gunshot was still tender but his adrenaline was already pumping and he barely felt it. He had a job to do and he focused on losing himself in the deliberate movements of preparing the two guns he would carry in a shoulder holster that he strapped on, storing spare ammo clips, a knife and explosives on his belt. When he and Scott had first starting using them in training he’d joked that he was like Batman with a utility belt but he didn’t feel any of that humor anymore and the memory was an unwelcome reminder of how much he had changed. It hurt more knowing that Derek had been there for that joke and had even smiled. It was all just salt in the wound and Stiles was sure he was scowling at his equipment but he didn’t care; he just needed to get through this.

Once he was ready, Captain Yukimura informed him that everyone was meeting in the briefing room to go over the plan and they walked there together, both weighed down by body armour and weapons. Stiles was aware that he was being standoffish and Kira was giving him a concerned look but he ignored it like the pain from his wounds. His friends had nothing to be worried about; he was going to do this and make things right.

His confidence fizzled pathetically though once he entered the room and saw Derek standing  around a central desk with everyone. Stiles forgot how to move and froze in the door.

Scott and Lydia were on the left side of the table looking at computer that Lydia was typing at and talking about some satellite photos of Deucalion’s headquarters. Danny stood behind them tapping away on a small tablet he was holding and the two directors were on the opposite side to Stiles’ right. Scott and Chris was suited up the same way as Scott and the room had an air of urgency that Stiles had never seen before in his years at the Agency.

A few guards were stationed by the side of the room, no doubt for the criminal guest they had in their midst. Derek himself was leaning over some hand drawn plans spread out across the table that he was explaining to Deaton and had his back to Stiles. Or at least he did until Chris noticed him and Kira and called them over. Then Derek was turning to face Stiles and everything else fell away.

The older man still looked ragged and hostile but he had that same air of intimidating calm that Stiles had seen in the interrogation room. Someone had given him a bulletproof vest that he was wearing though the handcuffs were still on and it had made it a little awkward for him when he’d been gesturing to things on the map. He stood in front of Stiles only a few feet away but it felt like an endless gulf between them and Stiles felt broken at the prospect of never being able to cross it again.

It made sense that Derek was there of course, they needed to debrief him formally on his information and Stiles wasn’t really the person to be doing that; he just needed to be there to listen to the plan. He mentally cursed himself for reacting so much to something he should have expected and stubbornly tried to regain self control.

Chris was corralling him to a spot around the table and gesturing to a point on the map and Stiles finally had to look away from Derek’s piercing stare. It was a relief to be able to let go even for a moment of the guilt he’d been holding in but at the same time he didn’t feel that he deserved relief. He hadn’t earned that yet.

Scott gave Stiles a sympathetic look across the table like he could tell what his friend was thinking and Stiles felt the gratitude wash over him. Scott still didn’t seem to recognise Derek but as Stiles had been painfully reminded over the last few hours, the time they had been trainees together was a lifetime ago. Stiles wasn’t even surprised and if anything was grateful his best friend didn’t need to worry about the complications when his fiancee was on the line. So Stiles managed strained smiled back at Scott and tried to focus on the route that Chris was explaining to him.

Alison had given them information on multiple hideouts and drug dens that the crime syndicate was linked to but her last known location hadn’t been near any of them and Lydia had been struggling all morning to figure it out. Derek’s intelligence revealed that Deucalion’s main headquarters was just down the street from that location and was rumored to have the latest jamming hardware. It was an abandoned asylum known as Eichen House on the outskirts of the industrial district near the suburbs; Stiles thought he might have even passed it on that crazy night when he followed Derek out to Daeler’s mansion. That night felt so far away and the easy way that Derek had let Stiles take care of him after felt further still. The memory stung and Stiles tried not to look up at Derek as he thought of how close their bodies had been when he’d been working on the stitches.

It was difficult. Stiles was distracted and Chris’ voice felt like it faded as Stiles gave in and looked up at Derek. The man’s body was bent over the table and despite his hands being cuffed in front of him, Derek had a formidable presence that screamed dangerous. And yet… to Stiles it made him feel safer somehow. He’d gotten so used to this person protecting him now that the danger felt like it would be directed at others rather than Stiles and he had to remind himself that the only thing stopping Derek from killing him was the deal he’d made with people much more worthy of his trust.

Stiles was distantly aware of Chris explaining Derek’s plan to enter from a series of underground tunnels and tried to use the words to pull him out of his anxious spiral.

The asylum was apparently over a hundred years old and had a handful of extra buildings for cooking and housing servants that would be a lot easier to get into than the main building that was much more heavily guarded. Chris pointed out one of the smaller buildings on the north end of the property at the edge of the forest that would be easy enough for them to approach. They would then use the tunnels that connected it to the main building to gain access past the guards posted outside

According to Derek, most of the old tunnels were collapsed for security but that particular route is used as an emergency escape. He insists that the way will be clear except for a handful of guards that they can deal with relatively easily. It’s risky to say the least but everyone at the briefing knows this and is willing to go forward to save Alison and salvage the mission.

Once inside, there were a range of locations they might have been holding her and Stiles watched as Derek mapped out the interior of the asylum. Most of the space in the basement was converted into a lab for the production of various narcotics the last time Derek was there about a year ago when the two crime syndicates still did business. He knew that some of the holding cells down there had remained unchanged though from the original design of the building.

“There are similar rooms upstairs that they use to-” Derek cut himself off and curiously looked at Scott with something Stiles suspected was apology, “They used to take people who they… wanted to make an example of.”

With Scott standing next to him Stiles could hear the sharp intake of breath as his friend tried to school his expression into something that resembled calm.

Stiles just put a hand on his shoulder and said, “We’re going to get her back.”

Scott just nodded, looking pale and Stiles hated that their plan was so shaky but he would make this work.

Derek was continuing with the description of the house, mentioning where he remembered most of the guards being posted, their general numbers and location of things like their sleeping quarters. He seemed very well versed in all the details but Stiles supposed that they are discussing the Hales’ rival and any information that they would have gathered over time would be valued. Director Deaton was very interested in the location of Deucalion’s office though once Derek mentioned it, both of them having a very involved discussion about how easy it would be to access.

“All of these people here headed for that office will raise every alarm,” Derek said dryly to Deaton with a gesture to the fifteen or so people in the room. “You’re better off sending a smaller group to break in and take what you want.”

“This is ridiculous!” Chris cut in, “Deucalion is not going to be there and we cannot afford to waste time and resources on another tangent to this mission.”

Deaton’s usually unreadable face betrayed a second of concern as he calmly explained, “You’re right, it’s unlikely that we will find him but the evidence we may be able to get there will be invaluable to indictments and arrests.”

Director Argent grumbled about how it’s not worth the risk but Stiles disagreed and could see many others in the room considering things. The information in there was what Alison had gone undercover for in the first place after all.

After a moment to let that sink in, Deaton continued, “Mister Hale seems to think only a smaller force is required and I agree, the office is closer to the center of the asylum and will be impossible to reach covertly with a large force. We do not have the numbers at the moment to take the full compound and waiting for reinforcements is out of the question. I propose we send four agents up to the office while everyone else remain in the lower levels where we will find our agent.”

There was nodding around the room and Stiles just wants to get a move on so he asks, “Kira, who among your squad would you recommend?”

Before she could answer though, Derek spoke up, “You’ll need me to get there, the place was a maze back when they built it and Deucalion made sure that it stayed that way for the higher floors. I know where the people are concentrated, where to avoid and how to get around better than I could explain to anyone here within the hour or so we probably have.”

His words hung in the air for the moment and Stiles’ immediate reaction was that they could not allow Derek to go alone with only a handful of agents. Everyone there had the highest level of training but at the end of the day Derek was a killer and Stiles hated the niggling doubt at the back of his mind but he could not allow people to be put in danger.

“Absolutely out of the question,” Chris says, shaking his head, “I will not allow a criminal to lead a covert operation in extremely hostile territory.”

“Chris-” Deaton tries, but is cut off.

“No. I will not risk my daughter’s life for this, we are wasting time-”

“Sir, if I may,” Stiles said in a hard as nails voice that demanded to be heard, “I have the most experience with Hale and covert operations. I believe he is telling the truth about the route to the offices and that the files there would be invaluable to our progress with the war on crime in this city.”

Stiles hated talking about Derek as if the man wasn’t there and had to work hard to ignore the holes that Derek was boring into his head with his eyes. He needed to get through to Director Argent though and this was how he had to do it.

“Sir let me lead this operation,” He continued, “I can keep tabs on him alongside two other agents. If anything goes wrong

He could see Argent’s resolve slipping on this issue and delivered the final point.

“Director, you know Alison wouldn’t forgive us if her work went to waste. The evidence will likely be destroyed by the time we go back there and we need to take this opportunity”

Lydia was nodding along to what Stiles was saying but he also saw Scott out of the corner of his eye and the man looked even more concerned than he had before. Stiles couldn’t blame him either, this was a pretty rough situation and he would rather have been by Scott’s side but ensuring that this part of the mission went smoothly might determine whether or not they could get everyone out safely. And at the end of everything, Stiles knows he was the most qualified.

“Alright Stilinski,” Argent conceded gruffly before addressing the room, “You and Hale will separate from the group once we have found the cells. We cannot guarantee how long we can wait for you so return as quickly as possibly. Captain Yukimura, assign two more agents to accompany them. We leave in ten minutes. That is all, dismissed.”

His words rung with finality and everyone moved, making their final checks to weapons and armour before a few started heading towards the parking lot. Stiles and Scott gave each other a quick hug and words of encouragement that they both desperately needed and Stiles adamantly didn’t look at Derek as he left the briefing room.

He was headed towards the exit when he heard Lydia calling his name and saw her jogging a bit to catch up to him. He raised an eyebrow at her and Scott looked back at both of them with concern.

“Stiles can I talk to you for a minute?” Lydia said urgently, though something in her expression made Stiles feel like it wasn’t just the current chaos that was bothering her.

“Sure, umm..” Stiles said, looking back to Scott.

He wasn’t sure if Lydia meant just him but after a look shared between them, Scott simply nodded and said he’d see them both in a minute before continuing outside. Sometimes Stiles really loved how easy it was for the two of them to understand each other.

Then Lydia was pulling him along by the arm towards her office and Stiles’ suspicions skyrocketed.

“What is it?” He asked, heart in his throat.

“Over here come on,” she said, pulling him inside and closing the door.

“Lydia what’s wrong?”

She looked around as if someone might be listening which was making Stiles nervous but eventually she spoke in a low voice full of urgency.

“I did some more research into Kate Argent, I couldn’t let it go. I mean we know they’re family so what did she do that alienated her from the rest of them. What was so bad Allison would keep it from us?”

Stiles wanted to know too but this was hardly the time so he had to wonder why Lydia thought he had to know before he went into the field. His expression must have shown his understanding because Lydia barely paused before continuing.

“It took forever and I had to cash in some favours to get access to the files because half of them were redacted or classified at ridiculous levels but I found out what happened. Kate was part of the Agency apparently and worked alongside her brother Chris.”

“What?” Stiles couldn’t understand, he had never even heard of a Kate Argent until recently, let alone someone who was an ex-member of the agency. He tried to reconcile the image of the foreboding woman he had seen at the hotel with someone who could be Allison’s aunt, someone who would have been his ally if things had been different. It was surreal and all the what ifs were making him think of Derek again.

Lydia barely paused before continuing. “There had been rumors of Kate being involved in the same corruption that her father, Gerard, had been suspected of. The reports I read said that Chris never suspected his sister but his wife did and went to confront Kate in her apartment one night. No one knows exactly what happened but Victoria Argent was found the next morning dead in the elevator of the building with several gunshot wounds to the chest.”

Stiles eyes went wide and his blood ran cold. “Fuck…” Stiles muttered as he tried to turn over this new information in his head. Silver had just been a marginal player he’d researched before going undercover and they knew she was dangerous but this was a whole other level. Lydia was talking about murder. Kate had murdered Alison’s mother. No wonder she’d been so adamant to go after this monster.

The look on Lydia’s face told him she was nowhere near done though and has had countless sleepless nights over this already. He could feel exhaustion creeping into his own body as well and braces himself for what she’s found out.

After letting Stiles digest everything for a moment she continued, “She went off the grid almost immediately after that. I found traces of wire transfers into offshore shell accounts that I was able to link to some of her suspected aliases. There is circumstantial evidence that places her at dozens of crime scenes across the country as well as some international jobs. Theft, drugs, weapons, murder, she’s likely been involved in it all.”

“One job earlier on in her criminal career seems to have cemented her as a key player in the criminal underworld in this city. As you know she’s been involved with both of the major crime syndicates but her involvement with the Hales appears to go back much further than anticipated…”

Stiles could hear the hesitation in her voice and didn’t understand. Having worked with the Hales for a bit longer than they’d known didn’t seem like that big of a deal but he waited as patiently as he could for her to clarify.

“Stiles I think she set the fire and killed the majority of the Hale family.”

“What?” Stiles gasped, unable to believe what he’s hearing.

“Her travel records and purchase history from a number of offshore accounts suggest that she was in town when the fire happened. She must have-”

Stiles tuned out about halfway through her explanation as everything he knew was thrown into a tailspin. The fact that Lydia believed it was enough for him to know that it was true but he just couldn’t understand.

“Why? How could Peter work with her after that? How could Derek?” His voice was raw and confused as he looked up at her, knowing he’d probably cut off something she was saying but he couldn’t help the questions gnawing at him.

Lydia sighed and looked as tired as Stiles expected someone would after having to sit on this kind of information for who knows how long.

“As far as I know, Derek doesn’t know anything. From what you’ve told me, he’s still haunted by the fire and would never work with someone like that, not even if Peter told him to.”

Stiles nodded slowly, this part of things slots into place and he can begin to swallow it.

“Peter though…” Lydia continued, “That’s why I was mentioning her offshore accounts, a large sum of money was transferred into one of them right before the fire. Stiles it was Peter’s money, he paid her to do it.”

That sent Stiles’ mind reeling again at the cruel reality and he sunk into one of the chairs near the door as Lydia went on.

“Apparently Peter’s sister Talia was a high profile lawyer and getting close to some of the more sensitive details of her brother’s operation. I’m not sure of the details because a lot of her case files were missing but it seemed like she may even have been preparing to go to FBI with her intel. Peter couldn’t allow that and somehow the rest of the family got caught up in things. I don’t know if he meant for Derek to survive or not or even when he recruited his nephew but his loyalty has been unwavering since then.”

Stiles wasn’t sure how long he sat there trying to come to terms with everything but after some time he said softly, almost to himself, “this is going to destroy Derek.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lydia nod solemnly before she said, “You can’t tell anyone, not until this is all over.”

“Why did you tell me?” He asked, genuinely wondering.

“Because you’re going on a covert op with a guy who was brainwashed by a power hungry psychopath and I figured you should know all the facts,” she said plainly.

In any other situation, Stiles would have made a joke about how he never knew that Lydia cared but he was too tired, too drained to find the humor in this. She was right and he was grateful, even though he would rather not have know any of this. A traitorous part of him even wished he’d never taken the undercover position with the Hales but there was no turning back now.

“We should go,” Lydia said reluctantly, glancing at her wristwatch.

Stiles just nodded, feeling distant and off balance but he made himself and took in a few deep breaths. Once he felt some semblance of control returning he finally met Lydia’s eyes, that were terrified and exhausted but hiding it well enough that Stiles was sure only a handful of people would be able to notice it. She was so strong and this situation was so fucked up but they both just wanted their friend back and for everything to be okay. So Stiles tried to give her a small smile, a shadow of the cocky shit eating grin he usually had before a major operation like this. It was enough though because a moment later Lydia returned a strained smile and spoke with only a small tremor in her voice.

  
“Let’s go get Allison back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm busy with uni stuff thesedays so won't be able to update in the foreseeable future unfortunately
> 
> I'm on tumblr @fandomshitstorm tho so feel free to come & chat


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